Oh it must be over there
|
see in the tall weed
|
with his head leaned by an anthill
|
by some water with a trumpet
|
lightly sleeps the jungler
|
|
but I'm not too sure
|
that we'd go out like that
|
so when we're older maybe sooner
|
we'll take the fumes from factories to love us
|
|
half important not important
|
not unless you go for gusto
|
maybe we could overtake him
|
with a trumpet
|
lightly sleeps the jungler
|
wakes up and there goes with the gold
|
but not all the gold
|
safely waits in this place
|
and when it's clear I'll get our gold
|
I'll get our gold.
|
|
when we're older
|
we will thank the jungler
|
for all the gold that comes
|
out our pockets
|
|
-----------------
|
The Jungler
|
| Midlake |
