Woorden:
Sense Field Will

Some will say, take cover And some will say, take care Some will call you over Some will call you out To show you their nightmares But there are dreams

senor Senor, senor, do you know where she's hidin' How long are we gonna be ridin' How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door Will there be any comfort

coarsely through the hour glass And collect like their victims in the bowl The ungodly force of change erodes all sense of earthly gains While tending to the mundane will

the poetry industry Vocabulary that to others is a fantasy highly respected by the public at large The prince will rock is taking charge I'm like a tiger in a battle field

with a wink and a nod And where power and position are equated with the grace of God These times are famine for the soul while for the senses, it's a

In the fields of sweet Ambrosia I've been told You can sit down by the river and watch yourself unfold You can drink right from the river And purify your

this way Will you bugger off, I've got work to do The city was losing its appeal, God was asleep He was back in a village, in the fields Oh, if I could make sense

, The unfit, but the lie never rest Servants plus clergymen, politician, Businessman gonna make money honey With oxygen in spray cans I stand in open field, words will

toe line Into another space and now It's clear that I will soon be found And this is the first time that it's made vague sense So into the colored field