Daylight Under My Wing
From the golden chair I sing to you,
From your old wild home,
Call you on my golden telephone to say I see
Reins in hand for a minute, I saw you living in the world
Fool was tied to his chair, laughter stifled in his stony lair
I saw you lead
Saw the lovers hand in hand
And the wheel started up again
You are caught in the weeds,
Trying to command from your knees
Who might you be?