Woven Hand Arrowhead do tell how is the little pilgrims progress does he endeavour to perservere close mantled to knives and kisses just like when you were here what little he had from him it was taken for in the small things he could not be trusted arrowhead arrowhead run motor city rusted nailed to the floor by an old time gaze who is who was who is to come given to other lips spoken on other tounges where are you and where have you been hold fast hold fast till he come again would it do would it do any good to be able to remember the white of the page the black of the ink thrown overboard lest the whole ship sink you talk this way as you go walkin weavin your way through the straw it comes so slow and leaves so quick under grace we strike the striken law