Some may say
if I was chasing my tail,
then it got away
therefore I failed.
What they don’t know
is what they can’t see.
I’m not chasing my tail.
It’s chasing me.
Said the dog to the flea
on a summers day.
Oh glory be.
The month of May.
Every time
I shed a tear
you get closer
you come near.
When the sky is blue
away you run.
I see myself in you
as I reach for the sun.
Said the willow tree
to the water way.
Oh glory be.
The month of May.
So you land on me
and you take what sweet.
Then you fly off
like we never did meet.
You say you don’t mind
that’s all you need
and that wherever you wind,
you’ll take my seed.
Set the flower to the bee
on a Summer’s day
Oh glory be.
The month of May.