(John Phillips)
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon...
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon...
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Drive you to the airport; wait 'til it's time to go.
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I've checked the weather report; they say it will not snow
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And all the planes can come and go.
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But I think the ceiling is too low,
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So you can't go.
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon...
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[?] New York fire [?]
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Burning just a little too bright.
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Manhattan firefly, never make it through the night.
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Somehow she came out alright;
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Through the darkness, see her light shining bright.
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon...
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I'm gonna have to call the cops, if you don't leave me alone.
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Stop waiting at the bus stop, trying to walk me home.
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The FBI, the CIA, you know they'll never leave you alone -
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And I will cut you to the bone.
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon...
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Blueberries for breakfast, love in the afternoon,
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Butterflies in my trousers under the August moon.
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Blueberries For Breakfast
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| The Mamas & The Papas |
