The evidence of you is turning grey And they're twisting in the ruins of your ashtray Are the sentimental lies all on their way Can't you see you're turning everyone away But I wish you well I wish you well, on the run Tell me if you're leading me insane Marching with the fools in your own parade With your photographs of 1971 Can you hear me through the barrel of your gun? But I wish you well I wish you well I wish you well, on the run No one's ever had it all so well And drifted off and dragged it all through hell In the letter you addressed to me Were the words you hoped would set you free I wish you well I wish you well I wish you well, my son