All In The Golden Afternoon Lyrics - Alphaville

all in the golden afternoon full leisurely we glide 

for both our oars, with little skill, by little arms are plied 

while little hands make vain pretence our wanderings to guide 

ah, cruel three! in such an hour beneath such dreamy wheather 

to beg a tale of breath too weak to stir the tiniest feather 

and what can one poor voice avail against three tongues together 

anon, to sudden silence won, in fancy they persue 

the dream child moving through a land of wonders wild and new 

in friendly chat with bird or beast- and half believe it true 

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and ever as the story drained the wells of fancy dry 

and faintly strove that weary one to put the subject by 

the next time. it is next time the happy voices cry 

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thus grew the tale of wonderland, thus slowly, one by one 

it's quaint events were hammered out 

and now the tale is done and home we steer 

a merry crew 

beneath the setting sun 

lewis carrol