While at a garage sale in Chicago, I bought an old box of music memorabilia. Clearly the old woman selling stuff from her attic didn't know what she really had, because I found some pages of old hand-written lyrics. They were clearly written by a young boy, who seemed to be practicing his lyric-writing skills. It was hard to make out the signature, but I'm pretty sure it was Paul's. I've transcribed the lyrics to the best of my ability. I give you ...
With Roo and Tigger
-------------------
Walking along with a tempting grin to follow the bouncing that guides a small bear. Sobs echo from those donkey eyes and deny me of my happiness. Dismal quiet sighs darken my path to solitude and honey. In some sick way I enjoy his pain. It always seems to amuse me. Buzzing hives of bees fill my every dream, delivering to me what seems tasty. With Roo and Tigger, all sadness is cast away. With stupid Eeyore, the sadness drowns my brain. In forest and grass, I'm tortured with woe. In checkers and Poohsticks, I defeat you once again. This day, I remember the cloudy sky in which I climbed trees high above. But now the branches are broken and I am left honeyless.
Man, Paul already had a way with words as a small kid! I'm disappointed this wasn't included in The Wayfaring Chronicles, though.
Ken
PS. If you want to read the song I think this evolved into, check out
http://www.novembersdoom.com/ivy.html
With Roo and Tigger
-------------------
Walking along with a tempting grin to follow the bouncing that guides a small bear. Sobs echo from those donkey eyes and deny me of my happiness. Dismal quiet sighs darken my path to solitude and honey. In some sick way I enjoy his pain. It always seems to amuse me. Buzzing hives of bees fill my every dream, delivering to me what seems tasty. With Roo and Tigger, all sadness is cast away. With stupid Eeyore, the sadness drowns my brain. In forest and grass, I'm tortured with woe. In checkers and Poohsticks, I defeat you once again. This day, I remember the cloudy sky in which I climbed trees high above. But now the branches are broken and I am left honeyless.
Man, Paul already had a way with words as a small kid! I'm disappointed this wasn't included in The Wayfaring Chronicles, though.
Ken
PS. If you want to read the song I think this evolved into, check out
http://www.novembersdoom.com/ivy.html
