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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

You chose age
To speak with a prima ballerina's
And of all the kingdoms
That would swoop
around
Then proceed to you

No pot pan, guitar man
Or Apollo myth
To seal your
your plate
And plain worship and adore you
But the pills you
Bring you no
So travel lightly on the wing time
Leaving all your baggage

As you wander through your vagabond
And find yourself shit
With a jack-handle queen of a broken spade
You must not be
You turn the page

You wore goddess down
In disarray
Your halo into decay
Swiped by you loved
But not hold in sway behind you
And the dry spell leaves
At a low shutter
enough for you to see
That you your own reality
And that the wait alone not enshrine you
And the war you swore
pour through your door
To come to rescue this time
Is all in your

Now as you wander through your stage
And you find yourself shit
With a rusty jack-handle of a broken spade
And you find yourself dirt around
your Paris green pumps
Of pentacles and jade
You must not be
You must turn the

You a world of things
Like you were a born
Or Coretta King
And the does not invite you over for a tea at her gaff
In
Or in Buckingham's

Now I'm sure 'Van the Man' of I'm a fan
Can understand
As he said "It is not why, it is."
So you need not remain scarred
And in you'll find
your salvation is mine
As you travel on the wing this time
Leaving all your baggage

Now as you wander through your stage
And you yourself shovelling shit
With a rusty jack-handle of a broken spade
And you yourself kicking dirt around
With your green pumps
Of and precious jade
Pulling the roots from your
Dyed from a
You saw in a windows
An must go!!' sale sign
displayed

And yet waiting for your
On the edge of a precipice heart to
serenading soul songs
That fulfillingness and consciousness
you from your captive cage
Replacing love for all your
Turning your hope on a rope's pope kaleidoscope
Into a rabbit's foot
You must not be
(Eyes babe)
You must turn the

One thing is
And that is
the water's rising
You can't
Move to dry
Move to dry
got to move on