Tangerine He really sobbing In a bed of stars While he's stomping Down the bulevard Like an angel With his folded wings And tear-stained dreams I can see your tears Fall down like petals Flittering Away amoungst The bitter winds Of seasons growing cold Tangerine Tangerine I'm beside myself I'd do anything at all for you Tangerine He's barely crawling In a mystic trance While he's falling Into circumstance Like a pharoh With his golden rooms Locked deep Within a tomb I can see the fears Behind the painted Smile you wear To hide the pain And salve the bitter sting Of growing old Tangerine Tangerine I'm beside myself I'd do anything at all for you Tangerine © 1998 John Mendenhall
