Paul Kantner)
Martha she listens for the ticking of my footsteps,
Patiently;
She sifts the hairy air that's worn and woodswept,
Pleasantly;
She does as she pleases,
She listens for me;
Martha she calls to me from a feather in the meadow,
'Fly to me:'
You can dance and sing and walk with me;
And dreams will fade and shadows grow in weed;
She does as she pleases,
Her heels rise for me;
My love, she talks to winking windows,
as she murmurs to her feet,
Thoughtfully;
She separates in laughter to my side,
Caught for me;
She does as she pleases,
Her heels rise for me;
Martha , she keeps her heart in a broken lock,
and it's waiting there for me;
She weeds apart through a token lock;
What a great thing to be free;
She weeps time, starts unspoken;
But when the gate swings,
There she'll be,
there she'll be
In green sun;
On blue earth;
Under warm sunning showers.
Copyright 1967, 1968 Icebag Corp