The case was made with good intentions But soon brought out my excesses
They were wrong to say that The tame are on the prowl I'm wishing well on those without I'm breath, filling lungs I am dying to bring us enough Green of field and seedless black The two ends meet on cul-de-sac
They were wrong to say that The tame are on the prowl I'm wishing well on those without I'm breath, filling lungs I am dying to bring us enough
