Syd Barrett

Birdie hop, he do,
He hop along
A lonely bird upon
A window there, he, he
There he blow
A windy snow, he knew the snow
I know the snow, a hoppy bird
The antelope ride around the parasol
Just to see if he's a man enough
To meet you in the sandpit
On a flying kind of sighing
In a meddlesome way
You know the way
I see the flies
She's a little kite, the sort you think you might
Like to fly 'er and like a kite
You get to see her every night
You know the way
She's only paving her way
Hectachrome plane