Cloudy
Paul Simon, Bruce Woodley
Cloudy the sky is gray and white and cloudy
Sometimes I think it's hanging down on me
It's a hitchhike a hundred miles
I'm a rag-a-muffin child
Pointed finger painted smile
I left my shadow waiting down the
Road for me a while
Cloudy
My thoughts are scattered and they're cloudy
They have no borders, no boundaries
They echo and they swell
From Tolstoy to Tinker Bell
Down from Berkeley to Carmel
Got some pictures in my pocket and
A lot of time to kill sunshine
I haven't seen you for a long time
Why don't you show your facе
And bend my mind?
These clouds stick to thе sky
Like floating questions, why?
And they linger there to die
They don't know where they are
Going, and, my friend, neither do I
Cloudy cloudy