Spinning out towards Bethlehem,

I see the truth in sight. 

Leaving all my wits without me, 

I’m spinning towards the right. 

These pills they say are potions, 

But I do not agree, 

My truth remains in motion, 

While this world denies me. 

But I’ve not given up, 

On dear Old Bethlehem, 

If I keep spinning long enough, 

I’m sure I’ll find a plan. 

And that is why the road, 

Is littered with spinning men, 

They sought their truth alone, 

When they should have called a friend.