(Smith)

In my Blakean year I was so disposed

Toward a mission yet unclear Advancing pole by pole



Fortune breathed into my ear Mouthed a simple ode

One road is paved in gold One road is just a road



In my Blakean year Such a woeful schism

The pain of our existence Was not as I envisioned



Boots that trudged from track to track Worn down to the sole

One road is paved in gold One road is just a road



Boots that tramped from track to track Worn down to the sole

One road was paved in gold One road was just a road



In my Blakean year Temptation but a hiss

Just a shallow spear Robed in cowardice



Brace yourself for bitter flack For a life sublime

A labyrinth of riches Never shall unwind

The threads that bind the pilgrim's sack Are stitched into the Blakean back



So throw off your stupid cloak Embrace all that you fear

For joy shall conquer all despair In my Blakean year



So throw off your stupid cloak Embrace all that you fear

For joy shall conquer all despair In my Blakean year