Stacey Grove - Live in London 1969

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Lyrics

Stacey Grove he's a roaming prophet of mine
 Hat full of wine
 Stacey Grove he's a roving catcher of skies
 Forecaster of eyes, so no lies
 Dungaree dome is decked like a pagan temple to Zeus
 He drinks acorn juice
 Roasting his feet by the furnace of peat
 He roars at the boars who massively sleep at his feet
 Antelope head his beard skylark red
 Is tucked 'neath the good of his summer sun hood
 And now that the gate of his evening is late
 He sits on a log picking ticks off the back of his dog
 Oh he's a nice cat

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
02:04
Key
9
Tempo
127 BPM

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