The Eleven Lyrics - Grateful Dead

No more time to tell how, this is the season of what,
Now is the time of returning with our thought
Jewels polished and gleaming.
Now is the time past believing the child has relinquished the reign,
Now is the test of the boomerang tossed in the night of redeeming.

Eight-sided whispering hallelujah hatrack,
Seven faced marble eyed transitory dream doll,
Six proud walkers on the jingle bell rainbow,
Five men writing with fingers of gold,
Four men tracking down the great white sperm whale,
Three girls waiting in a foreign dominion
Riding in the whalebelly, fade away in moonlight,
Sink beneath the waters to the coral sands below.

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