That he didn't, didn't already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad
So please believe in me
When I say I'm spinning round, round, round, round
Smoke glass stain bright color
Image going down, down, down, down
Soapsuds green like bubbles
I can't come down, I've been set free.
Who you are, and what you do,
don't make no difference to me.