When are you gonna come down?
When are you going to land?
I should have stayed on the farm,
I should have listened to my old man.
You know you can't hold me forever,
I didn't sign up with you.
I'm not a present for your friends to open,
This boy's too young to be singing the blues.
So goodbye yellow brick road,
Where the dogs of society howl.
You can't plant me in your penthouse,
I'm going back to my plough.
Back to the howling old owl in the woods,
Hunting the horny back toad.
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