Twelve Thirty:The Mamas And Papas.
#20 in 1967.
(Capo 1st fret.)
#1.
I used to live in New York City.
Everything there was dark and dirty.
Outside my window was a steeple,
with a clock that always said twelve-thirty.
CHORUS:
Young girls are coming to the canyon,
and in the mornings I can see them walking.
I can no longer keep my blinds drawn,
and I can't keep myself from talking.
#2.
At first, so strange, to feel so friendly.
To say good morning and really mean it.
To feel these changes happening in me,
but not to notice till I feel it.
CHORUS:
Young girls are coming to the canyon,
and in the mornings I can see them walking.
I can no longer keep my blinds drawn,
and I can't keep myself from talking.
#3.
Cloudy waters cast no reflection.
Images of beauty lie there stagnant.
Vibrations bounce in no direction,
and lie there shattered into fragments.
CHORUS:
Young girls are coming to the canyon,
and in the mornings I can see them walking.
I can no longer keep my blinds drawn,
and I can't keep myself from talking.(FAde.)
A sixties smash from Kraziekhat.