One and-a two and-a three and-a four and-a
This feeling of spring like the wing of a bird that is flying,
The nights they go cold as my mind does go old and I'm looked at,
A Inspected, hated, accepted
The wise men they wrangle, their minds look for angles and meaning (meaning!),
But the ceiling is light as I glide through the night and I'm leaving,
Living, being, mmm - mmm - mmm