He was trapped in a haircut he no longer believed in
She said I’m a teacher here. I teach the children.
And he wondered to himself then and there the things he could learn from her
A great might wonder
Think of the names you once called me in anger
Remember the sadness in florence ballard’s eyes
Imagine all the melancholy you could find in the arms of a stranger
Bread of heaven
Seems like nothing goes right
In the world that we were born in
But the horizon is bright
Yonder comes the morning
Upstairs they’re buying a stairway to heaven
Down in the garden they’re changing sticks into snakes
And the jangle of religious medals would put
The fear of God into an angel
Come all ye faithful
Their baby came home to them an unmarried mother
They wished that she would turn into a pillar of salt
But in the end compassion has to be the greatest family value
Help of the helpless
Looks like a drift to the right
For the world we were born in
But the horizon is bright
Yonder comes the morning