And whatever feeds the soul
Therein lies the story
Of all that’s rock and roll
From the dry winds of the mountains
To the wild, and crashing, seas
From the three girls in the fountains
To the reckless, on their knees
And as we go on singing
In this plain, and lonely, voice
For the wishes we are bringing
While we claim to have a choice
From the soft sands on the seashore
To the dust bowls of the South
From the freedom of the free score
To the soft kiss on your mouth
And as we go on winning
In the East, and in the West
For the smiles they all are grinning
In this, the feast of all that’s best
From the violin concerto
To the throb of drum, and bass
From the lark to the lothario
To the fear of losing face
And as we go on beginning
Each way to start again
For the ideas we are singing
Are to lead us all from pain
From the blues of the delta
To the ballads of the North
From the times of helter-skelter
To the rhythm of the fourth
And as we turn to lingering
On thoughts to burn our breast
Those pages we’re slowly fingering
To fill the heart within our chest
From the physical mentality
To the spirituality of the path
From the journeys of reality
To the sacred place we laugh
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