A daydream spills from my corked head

Breaks free of my wooden neck

Left a nod over sleeping waves

Like bobbing bait for bathing cod

Floating flocks of candled swans

Slowly drift across wax ponds

The men all played along

To marching drums

And boy did they have fun

Behind the sea

They sang

So our matching legs

Are marching clocks

And we're all too small

To talk to god

Yes, we're all too smart

To talk to god

Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs

To us from the dock

Jinxed things ringing as they leak

Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk

Scarecrow, now it's time to hatch

Sprouting sons and ageless daughters

Those watermelon smiles

Just can't ripen underwater

Just can't ripen underwater

The men all played along

To marching drums

And boy did they have fun

Behind the sea

They sang

So our matching legs

Are marching clocks

And we're all too small

To talk to god

Yeah, we're all too smart

To talk to god

Oh, we're all too smart

To talk to god