COMING NO ONE
MY WAY NO MORE
Consider the lilies of the field...these items of
secure devotion, innocence and rapture, whatever
they are, they neither toil nor work and yet - well,
I assume you know the rest. We're supposed to find
a solace in all of that too, I guess.
-
I'd rather the wind.
You know, that which tears the lilies to
shreds, rips them from their moorings, lifts
them from their beds. Something about
the adventure; keeps me on edge, better
apt to energize, more inclined to hedge.
I just like it that way.
-
This life, you see, has a geography all its own.
Coming, no one, my way, no more;
I guess I'm going home.
Consider the lilies of the field...these items of
secure devotion, innocence and rapture, whatever
they are, they neither toil nor work and yet - well,
I assume you know the rest. We're supposed to find
a solace in all of that too, I guess.
-
I'd rather the wind.
You know, that which tears the lilies to
shreds, rips them from their moorings, lifts
them from their beds. Something about
the adventure; keeps me on edge, better
apt to energize, more inclined to hedge.
I just like it that way.
-
This life, you see, has a geography all its own.
Coming, no one, my way, no more;
I guess I'm going home.
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