The case was made with good intentions
But soon brought out my excesses

They were wrong to say that
The tame are on the prowl
I'm wishing well on those without
I'm breath, filling lungs
I am dying to bring us enough
Green of field and seedless black
The two ends meet on cul-de-sac

They were wrong to say that
The tame are on the prowl
I'm wishing well on those without
I'm breath, filling lungs
I am dying to bring us enough