The sun it fell downnOn the rising seanTo where the bishop outgrew his pewn(?) was a mannGot his hands all over menLets hope he don’t put em on younnMy vision wellednThen overflowednTo spill on down to the green grassnThe chapel bell rose back then tollednGo on a tollin’nTill the tollin’ passednn(?) unlocks the doornShe’s sixty-fournShe steps down into the streetnOh, the city soundsnLike a one-man bandnAnd the bricks turn blue beneath her feetnnThe queen she laid downnWith the fiddler’s sonnBut it was the words she used to seeknShe said to himn“Let’s go downnTo where the grass is tall and brownnYou can lay that rhythm downnRight on menRight on menRight on me”nYeah uh huhnnWipe your eyes childnWith your head down lownYes I believe in time to grow sonnLook aroundnThere’s a big old worldnA stone’s throw from lonesomenLonesomenLonesomen