Live Jet Pilot

[Chorus] x2 :
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 skies, right before,
Right before they went gray,
My horse and my remorse,
Flying over a great bay

[Chorus] x2

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,

[Chorus] x8