Peter Mulvey - Thirty lyrics

Thirty Buddha's on a walnut Tiny lens inside the eye Tiny mind inside the tiny brain To see the overwhelming sky Thirty birds up on a phone line Cherry blossoms on an old, bound Ford The hint of Deja vu on every face And every crowd I want toward Ashes, ashes All fall down Hear those moments Make their sound Dry leaves on the ground Thirty odd years I've been drifting Is there somewhere we could meet? 'Cause I'm weak as a kitten I'm dirty as a mitten in a winter street Thirty days walk from my front door If I don't leave now it's thirty-one And the old man puts his arm around my shoulders and says "Let me tell you, son..." Ashes, ashes All fall down Hear those moments Make their sound They fall like dry leaves on the ground The summer stars they like to whisper We've been hoodwinked all along There is not a shred of meaning here but Thirty Buddha's on a walnut says you're wrong Thirty Buddha says you're wrong I'll bet you a walnut says you're wrong