Pagan Streams

And we walked the pagan streams

And searched for white horses on surrounding hills

We lived where dusk had meaning

And repaired to quiet sleep, where noise abated

In touch with the silence

On Honey Street, on Honey Street

What happened to a sense of wonder

On yonder hillside, getting dim

Why didn't they leave us, alone

Why couldn't we just be ourselves

We could dream, and keep bees

And live on Honey Street

And we walked the pagan streams

In meditation and contemplation

And we didn't need anybody, or anything

Then, no concepts, being free

And I want to climb that hillside again, with you

One more time

As the great, great, great, great, great, great, great

Being watches over

And we repair, repair, repair, shh, repair, shh, we repair

To Honey Street, to Honey Street.