One two three

He gives speeches

But they put him back in bed where he wrote his satire

He gives speeches

Always reaches out a lot

Led him to discover

Silken hair more silken hair fell on his face

And no wind was blowing

Stepped across the golden fields

And saw that she was soon trailing after

She was nice and didn't fight

He fell into her friendly persuasion

Late that night while by a streetlight

Little hands shadowed on the ceiling