A friend who's got daisies in his pocket
Mr. Thomas owns a red bike
And his heart flies like a kite
He gives a coin to the children
Who play war with wooden guns
Mr. Thomas remains at home
When other people go to church
In his dust booked the phone
Round it's edge things always emerge
Mr. Thomas isn't newspaper
But to me good news
When the hills do glitter the river
Where all things can choose
My grand uncle when he sees him says
He's crazy and starts to grin
My lil' lady Prue McKinball says
His head is made of straw
Mr. Thomas isn't newspaper
But to me good news
When the hills do glitter the river
Where all things can choose
I know there's one arms corps keeper
Is quite eager, do you know why?
All the blue birds from the river
On his top hat gobble and fly
Mr. Thomas isn't newspaper
But to me good news
When the hills do glitter the river
Where all things can choose
I like to be the bounty clown
Who seems so glad in his watch
I would be always around him
So I could walk his path
Mr. Thomas isn't newspaper
But to me good news
When the hills do glitter the river
Where all things can choose
