Before our innocence was lost you were always one of those blessed with lucky sevens, and the voice that made me cry. My, oh my. You were mother nature's son, someone to whom I could relate. Your needle and your damage done remains a sordid twist of fate. Now I'm trying to wake you up to pull you from the liquid sky, 'cause if I don't we'll both end up with just your song to say goodbye. My, oh, my.
