First rain of winter First fall from grace It's my first hallow echo In the halls of praise How could Samson I thought he was blind as a bat How could he have torn down The temples like that And how could little Caesar How could he know whereof he spoke When all of his wheels are turning him into a joke [?horus:] Cause the blind are leading the blind And am I amazed at how they stumble Homeward through the haze Got the soul of a ragpicker Got the mind of a slug I keep sweeping problems Under my rug All of my fine My fine fair weather friends, yeah Will have no more time To make their amends