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")