I may not have a mansion, I haven't any landNot even a paper dollar to clinkle in my handBut I can show you morning on a thousand hillsAnd kiss you and kiss you on a thousand hillsAnd give you seven death holdingsI do not have a fortuneTo buy you plenty thingsBut I can weave you moonbeamsFor decreases and thingsAnd I can show you morningOn a thousand hillsAnd kiss you and give you seven death holdingsOh, seven golden death holdingsAll shining in the sunTo light our way to eveningWhen our day is doneAnd I will be thereI will give you musicAnd a cast of glassAnd a pillow of piney boughsTo rest your headA pillow of piney boughsTo rest your head
