'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

If he spoke to a thorn
would a thought come along
removing his doubt and his fears
Removing his doubt and fears
his green eyes were turning to tears

Could he mix, maybe match
Would there ever be a catch
This thorn was caped in clover
The thoughts kept pulling him over
rolling over and over and over

'Tis better to speak
than leave room for the weak
Upon this came his reply
Just doubts of looks in his eyes
with doubts of looks in his eyes

How could he fool with another jewel
then choose to caress a thorn
His eyes of green would never be seen
The thoughts kept pulling over
(rolling over and over and over)

With leaves all stippled, half mottled
The jewel his pride and joy
The thoughts kept pulling him over
The thorn his favourite toy
The thorn his favourite toy

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

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