This feeling feels like
Angry black clouds
And his voice is like a thunderstorm
I will find him
Anywhere he wants me to
I will sing for him
In a cloud of New York cities
He's a good one
He's a good one
He's legs are like climbing vines
But his arms are like the tree
His fingers are willing entwined with music made of leaves
He's got to be a good one
Good one
He's got to be a good one