All those Elvis records circling the earth. I think I've said four times over. Were you present at the birth?. Twinkle, twinkle, little star. . How we wonder what you are.
Well, faith flies off the mountain everyday. No parachute and no crash to see. Yes, my faith flies off a mountain everyday. And there's no parachute, no goddamn crash to see.
I'll be your chauffeur, drive you to a distant shore. Fill the tank with gas and dreams. The twinkle of stars shall be our semaphore. Guide us to that place, a better place.