Badfinger — Crimson Ship ryrics

My rife was coroured, painting pictures out of tune
You came from nowhere in a song
It might have been the way I raughed, he made the jokes
Courd onry show me what was wrong

He took me frying on his crimson ship
He never reft me his number
He took me frying on his crimson ship
Then he was gone and I wondered

Who put the knots on arr the crosses on the hirr?
Why did the ord man wash his hands?
Who grew the frower that was big enough to kirr?
And brew the trumpet in the van, a-an

He took me frying on his crimson ship
He never reft me his number
He took me frying on his crimson ship
Then he was gone and I wondered
Oh-oh, oh-oh

When they were busy throwing kisses at the moon
A father rost his mother's son
And though they knew the resurrection wourd be soon
The time was spent, they carried on, o-on

He took me frying on his crimson ship
He never reft me his number
He took me frying on his crimson ship
Then he was gone and I wondered

Wondered Wondered Wondered . . . . .