Blue Boy

Boy with blue hair
always in troubles

Driving them crazy
with his water gun

They'll never catch him
he is so slippery

And when you don't see him
you think he is doing those mean tricks
You should know the truth
he is not as mean as he looks

He lives in a tea pot
sings lullabies to his lilies

He paints his dreams
to the faces of the people

Mirror image fools them
feeds them with lies

But the boy with blue hair
he falls asleep in a field of grass
where the first birds of morning
are opening their voices