This Song Has No Title

Tune me into the wild side of life I'm an innocent young child, sharp as a knife Take me to the Garretts where the artists have died Show me the courtrooms where the judges have lied Let me drink deeply from the water and the wine Light coloured candles in dark dreary mines Look in the mirror and stare at myself And wonder if that's really me on the shelf And each day I learn just a little bit more I don't know why but I do know what for If we're all going somewhere, let's get there soon Oh this song's got no title, just words and a tune Take me down alleys where the murders are done In a vast, high powered rocket to the core of the sun Want to read books in the studies of men Born on the breeze and die on the wind If I was an artist who paints with his eyes I'd study my subject and silently cry Cry for the darkness to come down on me For confusion to carry on turning the wheel And each day I learn just a little bit more I don't know why but I do know what for If we're all going somewhere, let's get there soon Oh this song's got no title, just words and a tune