Sometimes you gotta take off your shoes,
sit right down in the middle of the road,
kick off the dust, and deal with the news
that you are blind.
These dreams are familiar.
These are places we've been before.
Somewhere in the wild blue yonder,
lies the path where blindly we go.
And I ain't counting on nobody.
Ain't counting on my fingers and toes.
Ain't counting on no superstition,
cause my proposition is we are blind.
These dreams are familiar.
These are places we've been before.
Somewhere in the wild blue yonder,
lies the path where blindly we go.
And on the day that I play my last hand,
as I set out blindly for some promised land,
one thing I know, I'll hope it's dreams not eyes
take a soul where it wants to go.
These dreams are familiar.
These are places we've been before.
Somewhere in the wild blue yonder,
lies a path where blindly we go.
Blindly we go...
