Jenny. Jenny you don't know the nights I hide. below a second story room. to whistle you down. the man who's let to divvy up. time is a miser. he's got a silver coin. only lets it shine for hours. while you sleep it away. there's one rare and odd style of living. part only known to the everybody Jenny. a comical where's the end parade. of the sort people here would think unusual. Jenny. tonight upon the mock brine of a Luna Sea. far off we sail on to Back O' The Moon. Jenny. Jenny you don't know the days I've tried. telling backyard tales. so to maybe amuse. o your mood is never giddy. if you smile I'm delighted. but you'd rather pout. such a lazy child. you dare fold your arms. tisk and say that I lie. there's one rare and odd style of thinking. part only known to the everybody Jenny. the small step and giant leap takers. got the head start in the race toward it. Jenny. tonight upon the mock brine of a Luna Sea. far off we sail on to the Back O' The Moon. that was a sigh. but not meant to envy you. when your age was mine. some things were sworn true. morning would come. and calendar pages had. new printed seasons on. their opposite sides. Jenny. Jenny you don't know the nights I hide. below a second story room. to whistle you down. o the man who's let to divvy up. time is a miser. he's got a silver coin. lets it shine for hours. while you sleep it away. there's one rare and odd style of living. part only known to the everybody Jenny. out of tin ships jump the bubble head boys. to push their flags into powdered soils and cry. no second placers. no smart looking geese in bonnets. dance with pigs in high button trousers. no milk pail for the farmer's daughter. no merry towns of sweet walled houses. here I've found. Back O' the Moon. not here. I've found. Back O' the Moon