Seals and Crofts — Yellow Dirt

From the album SUMMER BREEZE (1972) He gets up every morning and he lights upon the floor He migrates to the washroom and he opens up the door The whiskers on his chin tells him he's in, and then Through the paste and the soap, sees an image without hope He's a broom of a fellow, an oddity in parenthesis So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul He usually spends his spare time counting hairs upon his arm The ants upon the cupboard to his thinking add their charm He never starts to notice that his shoes are full of lead He's dead, through cough. Labored breathing, he is seething He's a sandwich of a fellow, an all-spread personality So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul Last night a thousand stars were his to mold like clay, and so In one split second's anger he did reach and take a hold He saw himself a captain way off in some kissin' situation That would have made his father proud, he laughs out loud He conceals the hurt. He reveals the dirt The yellow dirt down in his soul The yellow dirt down in his soul The yellow dirt down in his soul The yellow dirt down in his soul