
but if I kiss you were it's sore, will you feel better, better, better?
because art is the way of prostituting our feelings.
And we were born of yellow sand---------
There is no plan, there is no end.
Three times turned
And you go and you go
You are free,
You are free,
And its a long way home
So good luck,
Don't get stuck,
Turn around before you can go back.