The Dotted Line

Trying to square the circle of my creed,
spread a little around for chicken feed,
and every (any) little thing I need baby, oh.
Everything that rises, all that flows,
and every which way that it goes.
It’s tick, tock, the raindrop, and I wait for you.
Like green eyes or cream pies. I won’t yield.
I’m tick, tock, those green locks.
I can’t go through.
Like green eyes or cream pies.
I won’t yield.
I won’t yield.
Oh, the darling light.
Oh, the darling light.
Oh, the darling light.
I won’t yield.