Picture yourself in a bar in a sun ray
With emerald haze and a Londonian shroud
Somehow the gleam blinds our eyes and our minds
And we crawl in our kaleidoscope cloud

Cellophane lips will sop up the music
Gleaming from your sunrising eyes
Look for the seaman with all his traveller’s tips
And he’s gone.

Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds, ah... ah...

The barman stares and’t seems it’s at us
Demanding some answer would we drink
While the blue skies from the fountain of your face
Make enough of an ocean where I sink

Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds
Lucy in the sky with diamonds, ah... ah...

Ian Lennon, 33 rpm, The Sergeant That Peppers, 1967
(from the song Limoges-Sens on a browsing Donkey, km 200)