Copyright 2006 W. Elliott, Words and Music
I'm a mole, I'm a mole
Yes, I am. A perfect mole.
I don't aspire to the world that lies above me,
I don't enquire about anything that has to do with early spring
Or sunny skies or windy days,
I'm so content in many ways that you would have to give me praise
And say that I'm the perfect mole
Who took to moling heart and soul,
A perfect mole...a perfect mole...a perfect mole...
But I want to see the rainbow,
There's something called a rainbow,
It's made of all the colors in the world.
And the blues melt into organge and the purples into red,
And yellows seem much brighter when they're higher overhead,
You look up high to see the rainbox,
In the sky to see the rainbow
That's why I might never see the rainbow.
Sky is blue, earth is brown,
Up is up, and down is down,
I have to be the one who carries on tradition,
I mustn't think of going anywhere that has to do with open air
Or starry nights or sunny days,
I'm faithful in so many ways that you would have to give me praise
'And say that I'm a perfect mole'
Who took to moling heart and soul
A perfect mole...a perfect mole...a perfect mole...
But I want to see the willows,
The sound that's in the willows,,
And how they whisper on a windy day,
Is it just imagination or a wish that it be true?
But when they start to whisper are they saying things to you?
That's what I've heard about the willows
And you never doubt the willows
Wind is just the wind without the wil-l-ows.