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