I think of a lot of a things when I'm walking. 
I think of a lot of a things walking home. 
I say them aloud, to myself I am talking. 
I talk to myself when we are alone. 

Why-ee-i-ee-i is my bleeding heart beating? 
Why-ee-i-ee-i am I feeling no pain? 
Why-ee-i-ee-i do I cry when I say Good 
Bye-ee-i-ee-i, When I'm calling your name? 

I look to the left and the right when I'm crossing. 
I look straight ahead when I'm crossing the road. 
The baggage I carry, that load I am tossing. 
I look back behind at the row that I've hoed. 

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