Enter the Haggis Follow

time flies account for our day dreams and circle
our rotten days by the window
then land in the palms of our hands
my mind has never been one for a slow ride
always delights in a sweet tide
slipping away if we can

all these lines keep changing

i’ll follow the stars tonight
a blanket of coal for a beacon of light
who knows if i’m wrong or i’m right
if i follow

three tries, give them to me i will need them
climbing the thorns of a long stem
petals will carry me home
green fields, a sign of the times and a strong yield
food on my plate is a good meal
however the story unfolds

all these lines keep changing
(we stay the same)
stumbling through life's pages
(and we can)
write them as we go