U ain't got time 2 call ur Soul a critic...

Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain't got time to call your soul a critic, no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home
Wond-rin' where the nut-thatch winters
Wings a mile long just carried the bird away

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings
But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own

There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away
And there follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay
And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay
And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings
But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own

Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses
Sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings
But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own


Eyes of the World - by the Grateful Dead...
Click to Listen