Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot

One that smiled when he flew over the bay
My horse is a shackled old man
His, his remorse, was that he couldn't survey

the skes, right before
right before they went gray
my horse and my remorse

flying over a great bay
Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay

Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay
My source is the source of all creation

Her, discourse, is that we all don't survey
The skies, right before
Right before they go gray

My source, and my remorse
Flying over a great bay
Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot

One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay

Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot

One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay

Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot

One that smiled when he flew over the bay
Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
One that smiled when he flew over the bay