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Time flies account for our day dreams and circle
Our rotten days by the window
Then land in the palms of our hands
My mind has never been one for a slow ride
Always delights in a sweet tide
Slipping away if we can
All these lines keep changing
I’ll follow the stars tonight
A blanket of coal for a beacon of light
Who knows if i’m wrong or i’m right
If i follow
Three tries, give them to me i will need them
Climbing the thorns of a long stem
Petals will carry me home
Green fields, a sign of the times and a strong yield
Food on my plate is a good meal
However the story unfolds
All these lines keep changing
(we stay the same)
Stumbling through life's pages
(and we can)
Write them as we go
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