When I receive the blessing I've got coming
I'm going to raise an ice-cold glass of water
And toast the living and the dead who've gone before me
And my head will throb like an old wound reopening
When I get off the bus down there my children
They all are going to greet me at the station
Like gypsies they will dance around me
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And the choral droning sound their voices make will saturate the evening
When I get off the wheel I'm going to stop
And make amends to everyone I've wounded
And when I wave my magic wand
Those few who've slipped the surly bonds
Will rise like salmon at the spawning
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