1, 2, 3, 4 Paper pockets was my pastel And from marching maps my finger nails I scratching for a brave That’s not been wrong yet That’s not been wrong yet 'Cause I was a child with fits of fury I was a child with fits of fury And I didn’t love my god less And I didn’t need my full skirt Oh, I didn’t love my god less And I didn’t need my full skirt To beg green gypsy eyes To beg green gypsy eyes But I’ve seen you in narrow streets I’ve turned some rocky ground So I prune my trees back For a stand tall garden And I’ve counted some closets So I, counted some closets But now I'll knock my Now I'll knock my Sorrow shadows I'll knock my sorrow, shadows 'Cause I was a child with fits of fury Oh, I was a child with fits of fury And I didn’t love my god bless And I didn’t need my full skirt Oh, I didn’t love my god bless And I didn’t need my full skirt To beg green gypsy eyes To beg green gypsy eyes Do you see this holy, holy spirit Round my neck Do you see I wear This holy spirit round my neck But it’s for my sister swallow So play me pardon Father son Play me pardon Father son Father son Father son 'Cause I was a child with fits of fury Oh, I was a child with fits of fury And I didn’t love my god bless And I didn’t need my full skirt Oh, I didn’t love my god bless And I didn’t need my full skirt To beg green gypsy eyes To beg green gypsy eyes To beg green gypsy eyes