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There’s a kickstand and those who just don’t understand and there are those who think of themselves as being wonderful as simply grand and there’s always the ever shifting sand Now look beyond your native land beyond the mountains and keep your eyes open and be fully awake because there is danger up ahead It’s everywhere and wherever it is is where angels fear to tread See there that lifeless corpse placed across your path full of lead and it’s up and over but before it is all over you still have time to make a breakthrough even when the dark light comes and you think you are done you have no more thoughts yet they never stop They rush on and on They course your body through and through Listen to the words they all ring true Now look beyond the skies above Look to the eagle look towards the dove high-flying like nature’s eternal love  circling circling silently always alone Think you now of those back packers them soda crackers those over achievers and all them slackers them peacocks them canal locks them righteous flocks all running in circles with no direction no memory no recollection What is there left to ponder You pause you wonder Coffee cans moving vans air conditioners and electric fans all on the move yet all standing still Tumbling churning yes churning against the river rocks and time keeps on moving keeps running on all the wall clocks from dust to dawn till we have all disappeared till we are all but gone  Who knows chapter who knows verse when things turn wrong and them winds blow worse and the battle still rages since time its self began and went on past the Dark Ages and wild lions were captured and placed in locked cages and cancers moved on and enlarged in stages And then we find prune juice Mother Goose those who reman calm who stay loose and time runs out and we’ve lost our mind Maybe it’s merely an apparition a wrongful decision a head on collision Maybe it is or was just another lost cause Nobody knows from whence you came or your given age or your given name So where you ever really here at all or where you heaven-sent I must rest here now I must give in I must relent  My time is up but it has been time well spent

 

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One Comment

  1. And the babbling brook babbles on and on once again. That makes me wonder who is drinking the prune juice?

    Like


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