“Here comes another grey morning,
a not-so-good morning after all…
She says, ‘Well what am I to do today,
with too much time and so much sorrow…’

The clouds with their heads on the ground,
she’s gonna have to come down…
She said, ‘Move me, move me, I’m locked up inside,’
but I didn’t understand her, though God knows I tried…

She said, ‘Make me angry, or just make me cry,
but no more grey morning, I think I’d rather die.’”