Blue clouds twisted into a tunnel
|
Somewhere far off the thunder roaring
|
And the fortune teller has fixed her sleepy eyes on my
|
Child
|
|
Sometimes I climb high up a tree
|
To let the wind blow in my face
|
Sometimes I leave my cares lying in piles
|
|
Somewhat disturbing is the sound of birds singing
|
When you know you don't deserve it
|
You are not here today
|
And I feel just like an empty eggshell, and
|
My yoke is heavy
|
My yoke is heavy
|
|
My voice is a little horse
|
Ggalloping lost through the woods
|
Calling your name
|
|
It's new to me
|
But just the same
|
The earth is an old canvas
|
Painted over many times
|
The poet rambles
|
The world it scrambles
|
But who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men
|
|
Your shadow knows
|
It's right behind you all the way
|
Your shadow knows where you've been
|
|
Somewhat disturbing is the sound of birds singing
|
When you know you don't deserve it
|
You are not here today
|
And I feel just like an empty eggshell, and
|
My yoke is heavy
|
My yoke is heavy
|
|
Sacred is the smile
|
That opened up my mind
|
That may at last please save me
|
And rid my cold, cold heart
|
Of the dark deep gloom
|
That took up so much room
|
In my many spacious memories
|
|
And many are the times
|
I thought and rethought
|
The thoughts you got me thinking
|
|
Though the sun shines bright upon me now
|
And I am young and kicking
|
My yoke is heavy
|
My yoke is heavy
|
|
-----------------
|
My Yoke Is Heavy
|
| Daniel Johnston |
