Too Much Fun

Wait for it now, for your turn, I brought you ointment for your burn
Too much fun in the sun could kill someone
Run little magpie, run run run, you got kissed by the lip of his gun
Red ribbon cut on a new freedom
Black raven on a fence, taken for a crow
You let your hair grow and the wind blows
Wait for it now, for your turn
You didn’t win, but you can learn
Too much fun in the sun…
Sit little birdie, stay some more
Chairs squeak on the kitchen floor
Windows open for you
Just for fun
Black raven on a fence, taken for a crow
You let your hair grow and the wind blows
Page after page I begin to understand you
And night after night, patience is a virtue
And year after year, we all become clear and see-through