(Smith)
In my Blakean year I was so disposed
Toward a mission yet unclear Advancing pole by pole
Fortune breathed into my ear Mouthed a simple ode
One road is paved in gold One road is just a road
In my Blakean year Such a woeful schism
The pain of our existence Was not as I envisioned
Boots that trudged from track to track Worn down to the sole
One road is paved in gold One road is just a road
Boots that tramped from track to track Worn down to the sole
One road was paved in gold One road was just a road
In my Blakean year Temptation but a hiss
Just a shallow spear Robed in cowardice
Brace yourself for bitter flack For a life sublime
A labyrinth of riches Never shall unwind
The threads that bind the pilgrim's sack Are stitched into the Blakean back
So throw off your stupid cloak Embrace all that you fear
For joy shall conquer all despair In my Blakean year
So throw off your stupid cloak Embrace all that you fear
For joy shall conquer all despair In my Blakean year