Turn. Turn. Run the risk. The world spins for you. In five years none of
This will mean one thing. If all seems lost and they’re out to floor you —
Turn and face the day. And once I trapped a golden moment. It felt so
Good, I pulled the reins. But you turned to stone and the joy was frozen.
I had to let the moment slip away. Now I confess that I’m king of nowhere.
I confess I’m no master of my soul, but like a river I shall flow where
I’m told.
