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Homeward Through The Haze
Stills Crosby, Nash
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First rain of winter
The first fall from grace
First hollow echo
In the halls of praise
How could Samson
Blind as he be
Have gone and pulled down
The temple like that?
How could little Caesar
Know where are his foes
When all his wheels are turning him into a joke?
I see the blind
Leading the blind
And I'm amazed
How they stumble
Homeward through the haze
The soul of a ragpicker
The mind of a slug
I keep sweeping problems
Under my rug
All of my fine
Fair-weather friends
Will have no more time
To make up amends
I see the blind
Leading the blind
And I'm amazed
How they stumble
Homeward through the haze
ย
The blind
Leading the blind
And I'm amazed
How they stumble
Homeward through the haze
ย