A cloaking robe of elven kind
Hangs in my wardrobe behind
All those things that mother
Said were proper for a boy
And I know I could not say why
On this summer evening
Sixteen books on magic spells
Stacked below the cloak of elves
And sixteen books on magic spells
So elegantly bound
And I know I could not say why
On this summer evening
And I know something, something about you
And I know something, something about you
A cloaking robe of elven kind
Hangs in my wardrobe behind
All those things that mother said
Were proper for a boy
