I Go Again
Oak trees in snow
Are just part of the picture
And forces that drive them
Are unknown and deeper
Than any mental wrangling knows
Or any great theory
Of living can show.
So it's jelly and ice cream
And musical chairs
And asking the meaning
Behind probing stares.
A meaty balloon
Of piss, turds and blood
Not forgetting the bile
Or the feet caked in mud
And the flaws shot through
Where the dissection knife
Will seek to unearth them
And prove they are rife.
There's a rose in the garden
But a whole lot of thorns
Will crown the head
And hide devil's horns
While the larks keep on singing
They don't skip a beat
As they bang on the drum
For their next pound of meat.
I'm from a long line
And I'm proud of that shit
I'd rather be me and be hungry
Than hang off the tit
Of a bored, tired nursemaid
Who's run out of votes
And has not got the strength left
To hand us our coats
As we shuffle and bustle
Out into the night.
The stars are shining more brightly
And with more glory
Than ever before.
Yes, I'll make an offering,
I'll give myself up,
I'm fluid enough to pour into the cup,
A candle so bright
That the shadows burn darker
A withered flower of the faded and fallen
Pungence. The smell pervades.
Sorry about that.
Excuse me.
Yes, I'll make an offering, SADHU.
Just exactly what the Buddha needs,
Another ball of tangled weeds
To put on the shelf
Whilst Mara feeds.
We're at the bottom
Of the packet,
Cornflake friends,
I'll be the dust,
I'll be the dust.
And sinking into the muesli mess
The soya alternative
Soaks up all the same things
Flakes, nuts and fruit cakes.
So here I go again on my own
Going down the only road I've ever known.
We play the depths and seek the heights
In an attempt to walk the middle way.
And we still don't know.
We haven't a clue
We grope in the dark.
But the universe says
'Yes. Like that. Keep going.'
Snow melts
The acorn sprouts.
But the weak green reed
Bends in the storm
While the mighty oak
Lies fallen.
Are just part of the picture
And forces that drive them
Are unknown and deeper
Than any mental wrangling knows
Or any great theory
Of living can show.
So it's jelly and ice cream
And musical chairs
And asking the meaning
Behind probing stares.
A meaty balloon
Of piss, turds and blood
Not forgetting the bile
Or the feet caked in mud
And the flaws shot through
Where the dissection knife
Will seek to unearth them
And prove they are rife.
There's a rose in the garden
But a whole lot of thorns
Will crown the head
And hide devil's horns
While the larks keep on singing
They don't skip a beat
As they bang on the drum
For their next pound of meat.
I'm from a long line
And I'm proud of that shit
I'd rather be me and be hungry
Than hang off the tit
Of a bored, tired nursemaid
Who's run out of votes
And has not got the strength left
To hand us our coats
As we shuffle and bustle
Out into the night.
The stars are shining more brightly
And with more glory
Than ever before.
Yes, I'll make an offering,
I'll give myself up,
I'm fluid enough to pour into the cup,
A candle so bright
That the shadows burn darker
A withered flower of the faded and fallen
Pungence. The smell pervades.
Sorry about that.
Excuse me.
Yes, I'll make an offering, SADHU.
Just exactly what the Buddha needs,
Another ball of tangled weeds
To put on the shelf
Whilst Mara feeds.
We're at the bottom
Of the packet,
Cornflake friends,
I'll be the dust,
I'll be the dust.
And sinking into the muesli mess
The soya alternative
Soaks up all the same things
Flakes, nuts and fruit cakes.
So here I go again on my own
Going down the only road I've ever known.
We play the depths and seek the heights
In an attempt to walk the middle way.
And we still don't know.
We haven't a clue
We grope in the dark.
But the universe says
'Yes. Like that. Keep going.'
Snow melts
The acorn sprouts.
But the weak green reed
Bends in the storm
While the mighty oak
Lies fallen.
