It's only a painted chariot
But it took you so far into the rain
And the coachman slapped his fist
On the chariot in the mist
He said look here sonny, can't you see its as real as pain
See this fine chariot, won't you ride it
I'm the coachman, won't you trust me to guide it

And it's only a painted chariot

Don't you trust that coachman
He doesn't want you to be free

Then you got high, deep sigh, much more, where's the door
Hear the old prayers, find the wise players