Record Collector

I'm tired of saying
That I won't get lost ever again
Who knows?
Maybe I will

And everywhere I go there I'll be
With a rusty old rake in a pile of leaves
Oh my
Truly daunting

[Chorus]
But my blue eyes cannot see
That their real hue is probably green
I should keep records of these things
And I know what yesterdays bring

And I'm not really sure
But I'm starting to think that I've been here before
Who knows?
Maybe I have

And everywhere I went
There I was with a choir of bees
They were all a buzz
Oh my, how amusing

[Chorus]

One time--there was this one time
When I swore God, she spoke to me
And she told me, oh yes, she told me
Of all the wonders that she could bring

And I said
Won't you, won't you fill me up with it?
Why don't you fill me up with it?
Won't you fill me?
Won't you, won't you fill me up with it?
Why don't you fill me up with it?
Why don't you fill me?
Won't you, won't you fill me up with it?
Why don't you fill me up with it?
Why don't you fill me up?

But my blue eyes cannot see
That their real hue is probably green
I will keep records of these things
And I'll know what yesterdays bring
I am always there with me
And I'll know what yesterdays bring