Out there picking diamonds
From the dogs that lived the storm
Eating from the hand that feeds
The hand that keeps you warm
Still you may not know everything
There's few that often do
Like the prophets from our yesteryear
That you, in time, outgrew

Well the fruits that are forbidden
They attract the greatest flies
Encircling your mind these days
And boarding shut your eyes
Still you may not have everything
But you have all that you need
Like your priests and other servants
And a place to plant your seed

Oh, what a day
Taking in the sound
Better be much different
The second time around

Somewhere near the graveyard
You stop to eat your fill
Among your perfect company
You'll do just what you will
But a gravestone needs no water
And a dead man needs no bread
You'd be better off not eating
And joining them instead

Oh, what a day
Taking in the sound
Better be much different
The second time around