Been gone a long time. I kinda' lost my way, can't find it. And I caught a short ride, to the grave and back this season. I can try to get by, but every time I start to panic. I'm a little bit shy, a bit strange and a little bit manic.
I went to a wishing well, that sank to the ocean floor, Cut up by sharpened rocks, and washed up along the shore. I reached for a shooting star, it burnt a hole through my hand. And made its way through my heart; have fun in the promised land.
On the narrowing line. What a way to sort my troubles, In a very short time. Gonna' pop; better duck and cover. Can you figure me out? I got caught like a little kid stealing. Did I say it too loud, a bit hard or a little misleading