Come On! Feel the Illinoise!

Oh, great intentions

I've got the best of interventions

But when the ads come

I think about it now

In my infliction

Entrepreneurial conditions

Take us to glory

I think about it now

Cannot conversations cull united nations?

If you got the patience, celebrate the ancients

Cannot all creation call it celebration?

Or united nation, put it to your head

Oh, great white city

I've got the adequate committee

Where have your walls gone?

I think about it now

Chicago, in fashion

The soft drinks, expansion

Oh, Columbia

From Paris, incentive

Like Cream of Wheat invented

The Ferris Wheel

Oh, great intentions

Covenant with the imitation

Have you no conscience?

I think about it now

Oh, God of Progress

Have you degraded or forgot us?

Where have your laws gone?

I think about it now

Ancient hieroglyphic or the South Pacific

Typically terrific, busy and prolific

Classical devotion, architect promotion

Lacking in emotion, think about it now

Chicago, the New Age

But what would Frank Lloyd Wright say?

Oh, Columbia

Amusement or treasure

These optimistic pleasures

Like the Ferris Wheel

Cannot conversations cull united nations?

If you got the patience, celebrate the ancients

Columbia

I cried myself

To sleep last night

And the ghost of Carl

He approached my window

I was hypnotized, I was asked

To improvise

On the attitude, the regret

Of a thousand centuries of death

Even with the heart of terror

And the superstitious wearer

I am riding all alone

I am writing all alone

Even in my best condition

Counting all the superstition

I am riding all alone

I am running all alone

And we laughed at the beatitudes

Of a thousand lines

We were asked at the attitudes

They reminded us of death

Even with the rest belated

Everything is antiquated

Are you writing from the heart?

Are you writing from the heart?

Even in his heart, the Devil

Has to know the water level

Are you writing from the heart?

Are you writing from the heart?

And I cried myself

To sleep last night

For the Earth and materials

They may sound just right to me

Even with the rest belated

Everything is antiquated

Are you writing from the heart?

Are you writing from the heart?

Even in his heart, the Devil

Has to know the water level

Are you writing from the heart?

Are you writing from the heart?