I Can't Answer Every Question

I can't answer every question sweet-child my mind is not a camera - it is a wide river running forever wild it takes a panoramic view - it is a-ladle in the hot-soup-bowl of life I am but bread and water the gruel. That passes from hand to mouth still rife. With all the waters that, fountain jewel. Spring up or falls-down on you, the moist dew that trembles pearly now have more answers. Then all the scientists and birds-singing—view. Ah, crystal thoughts hang on you with lanterns- lit and yet child, you think my heart is glib, while believing woman; was made a slave to carry and fetch for you—of one rib, was not the world made, my dear, little, knave?