Coyne
An old man surrounded by his books
Trestle table pilled with old newspapers
Fifteen cats scratching at his door
Filfth and mess all across the floor
Chorus: It's alright Mrs. Brown, you know Mrs. Carter
He's a luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-lunatic (x2).
Still used to walk with your spotty dog
Gazing for hours at the flower beds
Under the victorian canopy
Knocking the leaves of the dead trees
You're a luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-lunatic (x2)
The open ward is the place for you
Where someone they will tie your shoes
You'll have visitors one every year
And you don't have to cry, there's a million tears, everyone cries there
Chorus
And still you walk with your spotty dog
Gazing for hours at the flower beds
Under the victorian canopy
Picking the leaves of the dead trees
Yes, you're a luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-luna-lunatic (x4)
Still used to walk with your spotty dog
Gazing for hours at the flower beds
Under the victorian canopy
Picking the leaves of the dead trees