Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  My horse is a shackled old man
  His, his remorse, was that he couldn't survey
  the skes, right before
  right before they went gray
  my horse and my remorse
  flying over a great bay
  Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  My source is the source of all creation
  Her, discourse, is that we all don't survey
  The skies, right before
  Right before they go gray
  My source, and my remorse
  Flying over a great bay
  Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Wired were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay
  Where were the eyes of a horse on a jet pilot
  One that smiled when he flew over the bay