Let's go to the park, let's go watch them flooding
Out there after dark, don't have to think of nothing
And I love that for, for the way I'm feeling
Seven hundred foot, seven hundred foot ceiling

Let's take it to the top of the tobacco nation
We can aim the dish for hardcore invitations
And I hate that for, for the things I'm thinking
When the clouds are low, seven hundred and sinking

It's part hard, hard to remember, it's part hard to say
Parts unknown, unknown forever and those parts fade away
But leanings toward, toward a full stop's all I hear you say

One foot on the stump, the other's on the pulpit
Seven hundred foot, seven hundred foot pulpit
And I love that for, for the way I'm feeling
Seven hundred foot, seven hundred foot ceiling

(It's part hard, hard to remember) in our own backyard
(It's part hard to say) we can do some flooding
(Parts unknown, unknown forever) when it's cold and dark
(And those parts fade away) don't have to think or nothing
Don't have to think or nothing

Copyright: Peermusic Publishing
Writer(s): Gord Sinclair, Gordon Edgar Downie, Johnny Fay, Paul Langlois, Rob Baker