You chose with age   To speak with a prima ballerina's rage   And speak of all the kingdoms   That would swoop down   Stick around   Then proceed to ignore you      No flash pot pan, guitar man   Or resurrected Apollo myth   To seal your fate   Feed your plate   And just plain worship and adore you   But the pills you swill   Bring you no thrill   So travel lightly on the wing this time   Leaving all your baggage behind      As you wander through your vagabond stage   And find yourself shovelling shit   With a rusty jack-handle queen of a broken spade   You must not be afraid   You must turn the page      You wore your goddess down   In jaundiced disarray   Your halo fell into decay   Swiped by those you loved   But could not hold in sway behind you   And then the dry spell leaves   At a low shutter speed   Long enough for you to see   That you create your own reality   And that the wait alone will not enshrine you   And the war that you swore   Would pour through your door   To come to your rescue this time   Is all in your mind      Now as you wander through your vagabond stage   And you find yourself shovelling shit   With a rusty jack-handle queen of a broken spade   And you find yourself kicking dirt around   With your Paris green pumps   Of pentacles and precious jade   You must not be afraid   You must turn the page      You dreamt a world of things   Like you were a duchess born   Or Coretta Scott King   And the queen does not invite you over for a tea at her gaff   In Scotland   Or in Buckingham's back-yard      Now I'm sure 'Van the Man' of whom I'm a fan   Can surely understand   As he said "It is not why, it just is."   So therefore you need not remain scarred   And in time you'll find   That your salvation is mine   As you travel lightly on the wing this time   Leaving all your baggage behind      Now as you wander through your vagabond stage   And you find yourself shovelling shit   With a rusty jack-handle queen of a broken spade   And you find yourself kicking dirt around   With your Paris green pumps   Of pentacles and precious jade   Pulling the roots from your hair   Dyed from a bottle   You saw in a windows with   An 'Everything must go!!' sale sign   Prominently displayed      And yet waiting for your dancing   On the edge of a precipice heart to sing   Those serenading soul songs   That fulfillingness and consciousness brings   Releasing you from your captive cage   Replacing love for all your rage   Turning your hope on a rope's magic pope kaleidoscope   Into a rabbit's foot parade   You must not be afraid   (Eyes forward babe)   You must turn the page      One thing is sure   And that is change   When the water's rising   You can't remain   Move to dry land   Move to dry land   You've got to move on