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Cloudy

Paul Simon



Cloudy,

The sky is grey and white and

Cloudy.

Sometimes I think it's hangin' down on me.



It's a-hitchhike a hundred miles

I'm a rag-lovin' child.

With a fingerpainted smile.



[two lines forgotten in the intervening decades]



Cloudy

My thoughts are scattered, and they're

Cloudy.

They have no borders, no boundaries.



They echo and they swell

From Tolstoy to Tinkerbell

Down from Berkeley to Carmel.

Got some pictures in my pocket

and a lot of time to kill.



Hey, Sunshine!

I haven't seen you in a long time.

Why don't you show y/ur face and bend my mind.



These clouds stick to the sky

Like a floating question why.

They linger there to di.They don't know where they're goin',

And, my friend, neither do I.



Cloudy



Cloudy

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