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 grey my horse and my remorse flying over our 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 grey My source, and my remorse Flying over our 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
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 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