The candy planets cannot close your eyes
They cannot hold you, rhinestone lullabies
That cradle and croon babes in their beds
They cannot hush the hornets in your head
Moonchild, moonchild

Like Billy Pilgrim unstuck in time
Fiddle in your hand, climbing down the vine
What cannot be owned must be condemned
They think you've got something belonging to them

Moonchild, high on high
Moonchild, born to make your mother cry
Moonchild, howling all night to the moonchild

The sky is falling, have you had enough?
Leave your bones to the dogs of love
Take your place with the clowns and the saints
Biting on the bridle beneath the greasepaint

Moonchild, high on high
Moonchild, born to make your mother cry
Moonchild, howling all night to the moonchild...