Bicycle - Masters Of Reality

The babes in the woods are all cowlic bound

Dreams are nixed

Blessings are mixed

And the road to the slaughterhouse

Soon to be fixed

The tide falls back with the bones it’s found

The night sits waiting because the world is round

All good things lost in time

Now the audience dozes at the drop of a dime

The milk is sour and the words profound

The babes in the woods are all cowlic bound

The tempo’s false

The boymilk waltz

Has the ushers in the aisles doing sommersaults