Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay,
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay.
My
horse, is a shackled old man,
His,
his remorse, was that he couldn't survey,
The
skies, right before,
Right
before they went gray,
My
horse and my remorse,
Flying
over a great bay
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay,
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay.
My,
source, is the source of all creation,
Her,
discourse, is that we all don't survey
The
skies, right before,
Right
before they go gray,
My
source, and my remorse,
Flying
over a great bay,
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay,
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay
Where
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay,
Where
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay.
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay,
Wired
were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot,
One
that smiled when he flew over the bay………….