Young men and wise men have stumbled
To girls of a fancy summer smile
As forests of flowers will dance through the hours
Of gypsy bells calling the fortunes of doom
It’s time to
Stand up, John my brother
Reach out somewhere, grab another
Dance down the apple blossom highway
Why don’t you
Stand up, John my brother
Reach our somewhere, grab another
Dance down the apple blossom way
Young men and wise men are weary
And tired of apologizing bows
Too few ears are listening
Too many bodies glistening
In sheltered bikinis and all too sheltered minds
It’s time to
Young men and wise men are smilin’
On times they’ve forgotten that were dim
From candy floss visions
Of midnight decisions
In giggles of happy young puppy dog tales
It’s time to