A A E A When Stephen Foster died D A in a flop-house on the Bowery D A His worn-out wallet held E E7 just a quarter and a dime D E A But the crocodiles have to eat, F#m E A the crocodiles have to eat A E A He smashed his head on the sink D A in the bitter fever of gin D A A wildebeest gone crazy with thirst E E7 pulled down as he tried to drink D E A But deep down in the muddy stream F#m E A even crocodiles dream their dreams A E A And as the herd galloped off D A he lay on that flophouse floor D A Singing, "Beautiful Dreamer" E E7 as the lions began to roar D E A But we all have our beautiful dreams F#m E A running through us like wildebeest DEADADAEE7 DEAFEA A E A And when we meet at the river D A to cross to that gleaming shore D A The river, she always takes a few E E7 as the herd thunders across D E A But the river has oceans to feed, F#m E A she has beautiful oceans to feed A E A And the oceans they feed the sky D A and the sky feeds the earth D A And Stephen Foster's beautiful ghost E E7 lay down to feed a song D E A To feed ten thousand songs F#m E A echoing cross the wild plains A