She left me in a basket of rotten, round, bitter balls,
And Peckesen is begging to find her, digging in to find the answer she's a-ditching.

I think I see her now; she's running to clip me,
Don't think I know her now; she's just singing and staring.

Wandering around some vines and dirt,
She's looking me in the eyes, but she doesn't seem to see me,
I can't seem to see her; she's spinning.

I think I see her now; she's running to clip me,
Don't think I know her now; she's just singing and staring,
I think I see her now, I think I see her now,
I think I see her now; I think I see her now.

Come into the fold,
Come into the fold,
Come into the fold,
Come into the fold...
And your future is ours, and your mind...in time,
Spin the callous wheel, don't let the coil spoil,
And your future is ours, and your mind...in time,
Spin the callous wheel, don't let the coil spoil,

(etc. fade)