Counting Crows Mr. Jones

I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellowhaired girl Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this blackhaired flamenco dancer She dances while his father plays guitar She s suddenly beautiful We all want something beautiful I wish I was beautiful So come dance this silence down through the morning Cut Maria Show me some of them Spanish dances Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones Believe in me Help me believe in anything I want to be someone who believes Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales