מילים לשיר Lather – Jefferson Airplane

Lather
by Jefferson Airplane His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,
Lather was thirty years old today,
About his old friends who'd stopped being boys.
They took away all of his toys.
There was Harwitz E. Green, just turned thirtyHis leather chair waits at the bank.
And Seargent Dow Jones, twentyCommanding his very own tank.
But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do,
Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps,
And thrashing the air with his hands.
To lie about nude in the sand, He produces the finest of sound,
But wait, oh Lather's productive you know,
Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose,
Snorting the best licks in town,
But that's all over.
Lather was thirty years old today, He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said,
Is it true that I'm no longer young?
And the children call him famous,
And the old men call him sane,
And Lather came foam from his tongue.
And sometimes he's so nameless,
And I should have told him, "No, you're not old."
Which words to say.
That he hardly knows which game to play. And I should have let him go on.smiling.babywide.
Transcribed by Rich Kulawiec, rsk@ecn.purdue.edu.