Weeds
I’ve been searching for an instance
Of a hyper-cosmic mind
I’ve been lost within my innocence
Now there’s none left here to find
Been searching for a reason
But I have not found a rhyme
I have wondered up the altitude
But there’s nowhere left to climb
Uncle Albert’s garden is now
Filled with all these weeds
And his yellow submarine has sank down
Deep beneath the sea
If we look into a Glass Onion
We could surely see
That there ain’t no way
We can let it be
I’ve been searching in the shadows
But the blackness leaves me blind
Looking for Miss Lucy
And her diamonds she can’t find
Sgt. Pepper said a plastic Ono
Bolted all the doors
And the Egg-Man he can’t come outside
And play with us no more
Uncle Albert’s garden is now
Filled with all these weeds
And his yellow submarine has sank down
Deep beneath the sea
We’re so sorry Uncle Albert
Billy Sheers was heard to say
Yesterday the Blackbird
Flew away
I see cookie cutter balladeers
All lined up in a row
While we’re all looking for the Walrus
So we can get on with the show
With a heavy hand of arrogance
And a pocket full of gold
The Blue Meanies shove our Uncle Albert
Straight into the cold
Uncle Albert’s garden is now
Filled with all these weeds
And his yellow submarine has sank down
Deep beneath the sea
Dear Prudence said Miss Eleanor
Has brought some news our way
Yesterday the Blackbird
Flew away
