So there I stood in a turquoise cloud,
Centre of attention of an out-of-town crowd,
Serenading stucco walls and beams,
Ready for the sword fight of my dreams,
Feeling my way around in the dark for you.
Well the bar room bohemian, he gets uptight,
Frowns on the red tattoos and bolts of light that are,
Worn by the Marx Brothers in a bold motif,
He sends them packing with his stale beliefs,
Feeling my way around in the dark for you.
Oh the November pirate in a vat of cheese,
Taps Tarzan's Jane on the shoulder and says "If you please,
"Is there something other than this submarine for me to sail?"
She reads his tea leaves and says "No, you're doomed to fail."
Feeling my way around in the dark for you.
Well it's just one slice mercury below the norm,
Left the sun-drenched diplomat in fighting form,
But the sheepdog's cousin quickly deflates his spunk,
Throws out the plastic hangers and other junk.
Feeling my way around in the dark for you.
Yes I'm just feeling my way around in the dark for you.
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