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Once there was a man
Who had a little too much time on his hands
He never stopped to think that he was getting older.
When his night came to an end
He tried to grasp for his last friend and pretend
That he could wish himself health on a four-leaf clover
It's three o'clock in the morning
You get a phone call from the queen with a hundred heads
She says that they're all dead
She tried the last one on
It couldn't speak, fell off
And now she just wanders the halls
Thinking nothing, thinking nothing at all
Once there was a man
Who had a little too much time on his hands
He never stopped to think that he was getting older.
When his night came to an end
He tried to grasp for his last friend and pretend
That he could wish himself health on a four-leaf clover
Once there was a man