Nothing in my life is numbered In my life nothing is planned You might think you see purpose When what you're seeing is a band A thin line like from a spider Upon which I dance Nothing in these days is constant Come home to chance
In the distance Is a bridge And on the bridge a rail I have known a hundred women And part of me loves to fail But then again I have broken The expectations of a King And through the mist and the armour Too Much Of One Thing
Some rise in the morning Their milk upon the sill The last time I saw sunrise It had a dream to kill Breath low my scented lover Bottles and vials, potions and pills I could carve you from memory Then carry you through these hills
Behind my back is a curtain In my eyes there is love Two sides to this story The great divide makes it tough There are those that despise me Lead me round on a ring But I've always been a target Too Much Of One Thing
When I rise in the morning It's as if I've walked a hundred miles What I once did so easy Now comes in a hundred styles Hundred styles in a magazine The same summer to spring What I need is persistence Too Much Of One Thing