my time being born
on the wings of sorrow
ride the waves
far above these forms
which haunt me

child, I am bound
for the gentle valley
I will raise for you
sweet acres of golden corn
to bear your hunger
less painfully

child, beware
of all the tides of reason
they will use your love of livin
as the means
to drive you from the seasons

child, take heed
and stay with all good souls a'friended
there ain't a thing that I
don't understand
but
the time for "that" has ended

my time being born
on the wings of sorrow
ride the waves
ride the waves
ride the waves