And the seasons they go 'round and 'roundAnd the painted ponies go up and downWe're captive on the carousel of timeWe can't return we can only look behindFrom where we cameAnd go round and round and roundIn the circle game.
And the seasons they go'round and'roundAnd the painted ponies go up and downWe're captive on the carousel of timeWe can't return we can only look behindFrom where we cameAnd go round and round and roundIn the circle game
Back then, I didn't have a big organization around me. I was just a kid with a guitar, traveling around. My responsibility basically was to the art, and I had extra time on my hands. There is no extra time now. There isn't enough time.
Everyone I know has attention deficit, and they say it with great pride. It's a bad time to be right.
My name had gone stale, and no matter how progressive I got, it was my time to die.
Any time I make a record it's followed by a painting period. It's good crop rotation.
And the seasons they go round and round, And the painted ponies go up and down, We're all captive on the carousel of time We can't return we can only look behind From where we came And go 'round and 'round and 'round In the circle game.
By the time we got to Woodstock We were half a million strong And everywhere there was song and celebration. And I dreamed I saw the bombers Riding shotgun in the sky And they were turning into butterflies Above our nation.
I remember the time you told me, you said Love is touching souls, Surely you've touched mine, cause Part of you pours out of me In these lines from time to time.
Secrets and sharing soda, That's how our time began. Love is a story told to a friend It's second hand.