There's a golden ladder I'm told it matters to climb Every rung-up page from enlightened ages of time As you leave the Earth it can feel like birth All the bells of freedom appealing But there's nothing like a bit of healing There is verse and sonnet, the sighs of poets and bards There are stories and annals, history fanned out like cards And the grace of language ignites your mind With a light that's quite revealing But there's nothing like a bit of healing So love, take me to that water Bathe me in your river A stowaway, a backyard squatter Waiting to be clean Waiting to be clean ♪ She's so drunk that the chaos sunk out of sight And we're moving slow through the ore and slough of the night But she says she doesn't mind a break from the grind From the endless sinking feeling But there's nothing like a bit of healing And the trucks are quick, make your blood stream thick with delight Or a strong north wind, such as serotonin, the flight I have filled my lungs with the softer ones 'Til the walls melt with the ceiling But there's nothing like a bit of healing So love, take me to that water Bathe me in your river A stowaway, a backyard squatter Waiting to be clean Waiting to be clean ♪ There's a golden ladder I'm told it matters to climb Every rung-up page from enlightened ages of time And as you are sent with your clever friends While the heights can leave you preeling But there's nothing like a bit of healing