In Spring they cast their feathers, I've been told. 
But all the radicals are growin' old. 

At night things cast no shadow, that's a lie. 
Like all the things that matter (to us), it's hard to get back. 

Now open your eyes, sweet prince. 
Oh you've been lost ever since that day. 

One hand on the holster at all times. 
Oh my lovely rider they will [bad word]  you your luck 

And open your eyes, sweet prince. 
Just know that you've been loved ever since. 
Now (you know the way back) blind 
Just (ride with all the weight off) your back. 
(Go home).