
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 wanna 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, shhh, repair, shhh, we repair To Honey Street, to Honey Street
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