A man wakes up in a pumpkin patch,
and all his friends are pumpkins.
His true love is a black black crow
and far away she flew.
A lonlier morning than most.

A man sits up in a pumpkin patch
and in his heart pursuit.
But though he's still a man
he's still a man with roots
and all the little suns reflecting in his tears
your sorrow is the world's but your happiness is not.
you'll got the way of pumpkins,
and the pumpkin's way is rot.

No evening will come near
the pumpkin patch
as no dawn ever does.
A lonlier morning than most