On a hill , inside a house in Covewell Reach ,
  stands a man who's feeling very tired
  Looking at a song he wrote some time ago
  Could have made it big inside a Broadway show
  Every day I go away and find ideas
  Think, I'll climb on top of somewhere high
  Couldn't I write a song about a man who's dead
  Didn't really know if he was off his head
    Ev'rybody knows , that's the way it goes
  Too bad for Gilbert Green
  We can tell the world that he was right
    Sitting in his attic on a sunny day
  Mending 50 goblets that are worn
  Humming to himself a song of yesteryear
  His hearing wasn't good but his eyes were clear
    Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes
  Too bad for Gilbert Green
  We can tell the world that he was right
    Now the house is burnt along with Gilbert Green
  Sad to see his sisters stand and cry
  And in the basement lies a song that wasn't seen
  Tells the tale of laughing men and yellow beans
    Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes
  Too bad for Gilbert Green
  Now we can tell the world that he was right