On a hill, inside a
house in Covewell Reach
Stands a man who's
feeling very tired
Looking at a song
he wrote some time ago
Could have made it
big inside a Broadway show
Every day I go away
and find ideas
Think I'll climb on
top of somewhere high
Couldn't I write a
song about a man who's dead?
Didn't really know
if he was off his head
Ev'rybody knows,
that's the way it goes
Too bad for Gilbert Green
We can tell the world
that he was right
Sitting in his attic on a sunny day
Mending fifty goblets that are worn
Humming to himself a song of yesteryear
His hearing wasn't good
but his eyes were clear
Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes
Too bad for Gilbert Green
We can tell the world that he was right
Now the house is burnt,
along with Gilbert Green
Sad to see his sisters stand and cry
And in the basement lies
a song that wasn't seen
Tells the tale of laughing
men and yellow beans
Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes
Too bad for Gilbert Green
Now we can tell the
world that he was right
