How the god is mixed in The evil it does blend In this drink that we all taste. And when the bottle is gone I hope I can look upon All that I've done with a smile And bright and overflowing eyes, Reflecting upon all they've seen With the same glow as the Child born March 8th 1977. Please make my arrow shoot straight I'm tired of all the shots that missed It's one thing that I won't miss Betrayal in a kiss. When I finally hit my target There were four hands that held the bow And I realized I am not alone I am not the only archer Not alone with crooked arrows
Not alone with these crooked arrows.
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