The Piano Knows Something I Don't Know

I won't cut my beard and I won't change my hair
It grows like fancy flowers, but it grows nowhere
My hair, my hair

If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse
I'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf
Of course, of course, of course

She's the smoke
She's dancing fancy pirouettes
Swan diving off of the deep end
Of my tragic cigarette

She's steam laughing on the windowpanes
The never-ending, swaying haze

Oh, that ever smiling maze
Oh, that ever smiling maze...

A ballet

Everything's gone missing
I've lost more songs to floods
I can't prove this makes any sense
But I sure hope that it does

Perhaps, I was born with curiosity
The likes of those of old crows
The likes of those of old crows
And oh, how the piano knows...

The piano knows something I don't know

I won't cut my beard and I won't change my hair

It grows like fancy flowers, but it grows nowhere
My hair, my hair

If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse
I'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf
Of course, of course, of course