Plowing into the Field of Love

all those brash young studs

they have no idea what it's like up here

i am that ragged figure of a man

standing in a mansion window

looking down at the strung out refugees

some men would question why you would feed an animal with champagne

paddling through still dark waters

and the moon illuminates a thin white line

bootlickers stand aside

i am plowing into the field of love

in the dying light

i made a binding contract

with the lucid blue

our affairs are at chance

always to its favor always as its vessel

as you please

as you please

please

paddling through still dark waters

and the moon illuminates a thin white line

bootlickers stand aside

they will place me in a hearse

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