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 couldnt survey The skes, 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 dont 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