high august moon the light coming into my room dead winter leaves the sound of the wind through the trees i thought by now we d be on we d be further on i m telling everyone that you re the only one haven t i been a fool tell the funeral man i don t like powder on my face tell the policeman to break a law well that s no disgrace tell the doctor too that his medicine is far too good tell the baker man that the bread that he bakes tastes like wood haven t i been a fool tell everybody don t come knocking on my door tell everyone that a long line has been drawn tell the back stabbers too that their knives are too blunt i m telling everyone you re the one you re the one that i want haven t i been a fool