Mother - feeling your hand-eye Believe you and I did then And mother-release every bad seed The geese are leaving the trees Exposed to winter's cold They waited too long - But we too Exaggerated and now take the cake away It's a long song and I can't play it So give me a grip now collector of bones Worlds of smoke Distorted mirror broken Paradise is open but I choke One of these days when I see through the smoke There'll be the day I get the joke