Mother, feeling your hand I

Believe you and I did then

And mother, release every bad seed

The geese are leaving the trees



Exposed to winter's cold

They waited too long

But we too exaggerated

And I take the cake away

It's a long song

And I can play it so

Give me a pick now collector of bones



Words of smoke

Distorted, never broken

Paradise is open but I choke

One of these days when I see through the smoke

That'll be the day I get the joke



(repeat from "exposed to winter's cold")