(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