Superstition dying in my head
I've been planning my escape Won't you take the time and listen to the story? You could feel the mellow way we feel the you Won't you ride the stormy weather? To a time when just was going just to care
Superstition dying in my head
Sail on sailor, go between her Wanna pay enough to heave her Feeling, running, soul unclustered Full of lively, sit on mine
Way away to a greater unknown But you never cross this way again
Get it up, for another ten quid I can fuck you up