Day day, alone on the hill, The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still. But nobody wants to know him, Thay can see that he's a fool. And he gives an anwer...
But the fool on the hill, See the sun going down. And the eyes in his head, the worl spinning around.
Well on his way, his head in a cloud, The man of a thousand voices, talking perfectly But nobody ever hears him, Or the sound he apears to make. And he never to know this...
But fool on the hill, See the sun going down. And the eyes in his head, See the spinning around.
And nobody seems to like Thay can tell vhat he wants to do. And he never shows his feelings,
But the fool on the hill, the sun going down. And the eyes in his head, See the worl spinning around.