finding the element

i haven't thought about what i must say
the chosen words must be allowed to serve
that is a form of comfort on the curve

we choose with care the least appalling way
the one that lets us act with flair and verve
i haven't thought about what i must say

we let the jackass and the jennet bray
you know that you wouldn't have the nerve
to make the journey you would have to swerve
i haven't thought about what i must say

must be endured

the final torment comes in name of hope
we are not sure but know of its return
in all the forms for which a child may yearn

the temple's reached by way of a steep slope
and at its heart the cleanest fire will burn
the final torment comes in name of hope

we're told that we are just supposed to cope
we haven't seen all of the things we'll earn
but know that all the milk is in the churn
the final torment comes in name of hope

at the fulcrum

a sort of vision comes half sight half dream
the things we need aren't obvious or clear
all that we want's receding from the near

the whole of light becomes a single beam
and yet the day is very far from drear
a sort of vision comes half sight half dream

the top of life is here the very cream
all that we face is less than we can bear
what matters are the things that we hold dear
a sort of vision comes half sight half dream

love of country

we ask for truth and get more lies
the ones who lead have nothing left
when our boss speaks honesty dies
we ask for truth and get more lies

we wanted bees and got more flies
of common sense we are bereft
we ask for truth and get more lies
the ones who lead have nothing left

generation voyage

a million years will pass too soon
earth will not change much nor the stars
small ice-caps still appear on mars
permanent footprints dot the moon
we ask for nothing we desire no boon
the sun cares little for our human jars
einstein has told us all about the bars
we know the numbers just make us swoon
a journey that might take a dozen lives
or many generations more than that
and still we will not reach another earth
we could cram folk into some giant hives
allow them to traverse in nothing flat
and still not bring a galaxy to birth

the only glory

the price of liberty is still the same
a chunk of life belongs to other folk
we don't consider this to be a game

we give the ones who claim to lead a poke
they have to listen if they want to lead
our way of life can never be a joke

the choice is clear so is the normal deed
there's but one option that is not to fail
it's not a matter for desire nor greed

knave and fool alike we'll send to gaol
all that must matter is the human stake
one who desires to rule must not be stale

we all of us desire the same big break
a life with good things and but little pain
we know to tell the honest from the fake

we balance sun and blue with cloud and rain
there's got to be a space for every soul
we lose together and as one we gain

that's the objective the celestial pole
we can't all be alone in our fast cars
we all belong to the great human whole

we live in mud but we can see the stars

at the æstival solstice

the heat will rush right to my head
it's not enough that you're right here
i fear the times when you're not near

awakening i feel doom and dread
my bed seems turned into a bier
the heat will rush right to my head

above us a clear sky's been spread
the green below is what seems queer
this still point of the speeding year
the heat will rush right to my head

time for thought

i haven't had a chance to think
about the way to get things done
i take my weight and then i run

the whole of life is on the brink
of some revealing gift of fun
i haven't had a chance to think

all we can do is eat and drink
anything more will our brains stun
nothing remains beneath the sun
i haven't had a chance to think

no certain harbour

a mention of this is enough to frighten
the bravest warrior into greater speed
the pile of words never seems to lighten
we read and think and stop again to read
words that no longer cheer and brighten
thoughts that can satisfy no human need
the beacon's lit and war is on the way
but we don't pause just to enjoy the day

the moral of each tale we must belabour
there's never enough reason for our lies
the food we eat has never had a savour
the dunghill is replete with hungry flies
the nobleman must bear a foil or sabre
and fuss about with foolish silken ties
priests who command a weary folk to pray
aren't ready for the ones who simply slay

a glimmer in the trees

i know that life's a matter of high art
the thing we do is make it into play
still there is truth within each living heart

you make demand for the exciting part
and when its done you'll always rue the day
i know that life's a matter of high art

the body's not much more than an old cart
it knows the ruts and puddles on the way
still there is truth within each living heart

across the lawn you see a swift bird dart
its hunger simply will not let it stay
i know that life's a matter of high art

you'd sell your soul if you could find the mart
your very skin you'd let the butcher flay
still there is truth within each living heart

what's at the end was there right at the start
the silence holds the best things that we say
i know that life's a matter of high art
still there is truth within each living heart

a poor player

a count of words does not reveal the fact
but we aren't ready for hard truth unveiled
the glass we look through's dull and cracked
a count of words does not reveal the fact

each message must be treated with full tact
against the wind but very few have sailed
a count of words does not reveal the fact
but we aren't ready for hard truth unveiled

in anger and despair the folk have railed
against the ones whose truth we can't dispute
we thought we had the entire process nailed
in anger and despair the folk have railed

the message that we hear has not been mailed
it's meaning and its form alike are cute
in anger and despair the folk have railed
against the ones whose truth we can't dispute

the truest human's no more than a brute
against our hopes few hands have yet been raised
the meaning it is clear we can't refute
the truest human's no more than a brute

we know that we as yet can't institute
the order under which all gods are praised
the truest human's no more than a brute
against our hopes few hands have yet been raised

another signal comes we're not yet crazed
by all the changes that weigh on each mind
still in the middle day each stands amazed
another signal comes we're not yet crazed

faced with a complex world we are not fazed
in no sense can you claim that we are blind
another signal comes we're not yet crazed
by all the changes that weigh on each mind

the cords that you see cannot simply bind
they link us each to each in a vast net
we eat the fruit from the core to the rind
the cords that you see cannot simply bind

the mistake's that we take the name mankind
the sort of thing that would make a devil fret
the cords that you see cannot simply bind
they link us each to each is a vast net

there's something to be said now for regret
each of our faults though makes us what we are
we know the greater purpose won't be set
there's something to be said now for regret

we won't reveal the answer no not yet
we'll make the journey each in our own car
there's something to be said now for regret
each of our faults though makes us what we are

the life we make we always seek to mar
a vision comes and we call it a lie
the journey that we take's a bit too far
the life we make we always seek to mar

we start with nothing and we end on par
we'll leave the green behind us by and by
the life we make we always seek to mar
a vision comes and we call it a lie

the truth we know is painful to the eye
an ugliness we bear each in our hearts
we want to live and fear that we must die
the truth we know is painful to the eye

we aren't still waiting for the best reply
the target has been pierced by many darts
the truth we know is painful to the eye
an ugliness we bear each in our hearts

each of us knows our secret sacred parts
in this long play and waits our turn to act
the stage is not the worst of all our arts
each of us knows our secret sacred parts

life's just a process of sale in the marts
in pleasing shape the soul is sealed and packed
each of us knows our secret sacred parts
in this long play and waits our turn to act

the voice of the ostrich

we seek for peace and all we get's a stone
the news that comes is horror and despair
the world just turns and doesn't ever care
out of the clay we see there juts a bone
of all the things for which we should atone
to single out this one does not seem fair
we look upon the people gone past spare
each of them in their private hell alone
the lies we hear aren't ones that let us rest
secure in our own comfort happy folk
far from the wars and lacking only breath
to claim that we are up to every test
on us will never rest the dastard yoke
and none of us could ever fall to death

a time for careful thought

what gods peer out from these bewildered trees
we cannot tell for their names are quite dead
a moments calm and then the whirling breeze
a sort of dance but one that's filled with dread
we fear what's hidden from the one who sees
the true decision's kept within each head
a matter of the heart we choose to think
and then we find ourselves right on the brink

the weather's broken but there's not yet rest
our knowledge cannot shield us from the fire
what proof there is comes out of this hard test
the wisest know they're preaching to the choir
and yet they tell us we must give our best
we're not the ones who need to be assuaged
and yet you know that we've the weather gauged

storms come and go and what's left is not sweet
the warmest greetings go to the worst sort
we aren't so sure that we've the proper meat
and yet we know that we won't be caught short
we think that we're entitled to some treat
but we are not the ones with friends at court
evening must spread to one and all her balm
we know this and we know we must be calm

no room for vision

worlds fill with hope and then they disappear
time was we would have said much more than that
the whipping wind has damaged all that's dear
worlds fill with hope and then they disappear

when signals come we hope they are in clear
a storm of anger will leave the trees flat
worlds fill with hope and then they disappear
time was we would have said much more than that

and then the crash

nerves on the edge at any thought of risk
the world we want has not been fully made
our sources are all hidden in the shade

we're solemn as a cook with an egg-whisk
the heat is not reduced with lemonade
nerves on the edge at any thought of risk

so we aren't all as young and spry and brisk
as those bright boys out there on parade
still we've survived and done without your aid
nerves on the edge at any thought of risk

we never leave

we're tired of waiting for what's sweet
life's far too sour thus unrelieved
we wanted more but were deceived
we face this lack of drink and meat
with open eyes and hurried feet
too long our hearts were sad and grieved
but we knew just what we believed
we're silent but we ought to bleat
a moment's rest and on we press
our journey has no proper destination
and we would be upset to reach the end
our lives require more than just redress
each of us best knows the situation
but cannot help the movement or the trend

no time for fantasy

the tale we've heard is now too old
our thoughts are swifter than the light
no rain fell in the depths of night

it's summer but our hearts are cold
each noise awakens latent fright
the tale we've heard is now too old

we're too tired to be very bold
we take the changes as a right
yet can't let creatures out of sight
the tale we've heard is now too old

a measure of our desperation

a measure of our desperation
in all the work that is to do
our fear of making the old new

there's nothing in this situation
that we might take to be so true
a measure of our desperation

as all the good things of creation
come one by one into our view
seeing what matters have been due
a measure of our desperation

a sudden memory

a sort of message brings old grief
words resurrect forgotten pain
the mind insists on new relief
a sort of message brings old grief

the tale is one not past belief
its truth defines the living grain
a sort of message brings old grief
words resurrect forgotten pain

this teasing sun

all of our longing's focused on the rain
there's little we can do but wait and fret
the grass must wonder at this human strain

our work seems focused on but little gain
the duties come and go but we're beset
all of our longing's focused on the rain

a time of waiting's not easy in the main
we plant and hope that we will not regret
the grass must wonder at this human strain

no sooner promised than it's gone again
the lack of water is our greatest debt
all of our longing's focused on the rain

the clouds all dissipate that much is plain
we seem to know that nothing we will get
the grass must wonder at this human strain

another day passes with weight of pain
we want to hope but we will soon forget
all of our longing's focused on the rain
the grass must wonder at this human strain

lords and owners

we aren't supposed to let the matter ride
but how to do things isn't always clear
the monster seems to lurk in dark outside
we aren't supposed to let the matter ride

what we must do is show our better side
we may be hard but we are always fair
we aren't supposed to let the matter ride
but how to do things isn't always clear

the thing is that we've got time to spare
answers are easy in this light to find
what must be done is simple proper care
the thing is that we've got time to spare

our human qualities are never rare
they're visible to the most wilful blind
the thing is that we've got time to spare
answers are easy in this light to find

the thing that first of all must come to mind
is that we cannot always try to hide
we must be patient and we must be kind
the thing that first of all must come to mind

we aren't the ones who would be in a bind
if all our decency were here denied
the thing that first of all must come to mind
is that we cannot always try to hide

drought

a sort of anger fills the midday air
the sun beats down even the eager soul
fools go out where eagles wouldnt' dare
a sort of anger fills the midday air

the light outside is falsely smiling fair
but only an idiot would go outside and stroll
a sort of anger fills the midday air
the sun beats down even the eager soul

the guardians

these lions watch but never dare to strike
their visages show that they've much to hide
yet their large teeth just cannot be denied

there's nothing much to hate and less to like
while these still wait empty of power and pride
these lions watch but never dare to strike

we can't despair although we'll have to hike
we've never learned to take things in our stride
the road is narrow though the world is wide
these lions watch but never dare to strike

death of the republic

revolt's the thing in which we take most pride
the job of government's a constant bore
we all forget we're just here for the ride

we aren't the ones who'd run away and hide
but neither would you find us at the fore
revolt's the thing in which we take most pride

each of us knows that we must take a side
but facts are things that we'd like to ignore
we all forget we're just here for the ride

the ones who have a heart we must deride
we only trust the one we know's a whore
revolt's the thing in which we take most pride

the golden light's the thing we've most denied
we've done our best and no one could do more
we all forget we're just here for the ride

through all of life we find it best to glide
we see but cannot reach the better shore
revolt's the thing in which we take most pride
we all forget we're just here for the ride

a time for peace

no sort of duty that might be required
would drive a man to madness or far worse
in deepest dark his thinking to immerse

we aren't the ones who say that we are tired
there's no need here for helper nor for nurse
no sort of duty that might be required

in all of this we find that we've been mired
in processes that we can't now reverse
we wait to be borne off in that large hearse
no sort of duty that might be required

winter in summer

heat makes a sort of lethargy take hold
work seems a painful process to deny
you ought to pause and let the world go by
for all of us know that the end is cold

no one desires the choice of being bold
but all of us will want from pain to fly
heat makes a sort of lethargy take hold
work seems a painful process to deny

our ends are not the ones that we were told
we ought to laugh but all of us will cry
we aren't the ones who hold fast to the lie
but those who do may at the last be old
heat makes a sort of lethargy take hold
work seems a painful process to deny

a burnt-out case

a sort of treason fills each heart
against the odds we feel the lack
of strength in shoulder and in back

believing that we should soon start
we learn that we have lost the track
a sort of treason fills each heart

we take results in no good part
long time we gave good sense the sack
and now we face the lash and rack
a sort of treason fills each heart

father's day

let us define the roles and we may find
that we fall into them with simple ease
we all want to impress and teach and please
but each beginning still is frantic blind
we want to come off generous and kind
but cannot see the forest for the trees
and are afraid to end up on our knees
each day's a fresh storm in the honest mind
we let it happen and we hope for good
all that we get becomes a sort of prize
our best desire may be the slowest trend
we're sorry when we have not understood
the world takes its own shape before our eyes
and there are no final answers in the end

out of season

enough to say that we have lost
all plaudits go to those who win
our chances are all in the bin

hands all move slowly in the frost
we count each gain to be a sin
enough to say that we have lost

not one of you would know the cost
of keeping the whole world in spin
instead we take it on the chin
enough to say that we have lost

afternoon nap

i want to sleep the whole way round the clock
a sort of lethargy has seized my aching mind
in all such matters you should take no stock
i want to sleep the whole way round the clock

there's nothing here that's left for me to shock
you seem to want life of quite another kind
i want to sleep the whole way round the clock
a sort of lethargy has seized my waking mind

a crooked smoke

all of our days come down to this
we aren't the ones who know the score
we're stuck with all the hate of yore
but cannot fathom why they hiss
we'd rather give the fame a miss
but know that we are at the fore
the price of power is blood and gore
the scent of money's shit and piss
we pay the cost of scrum and ruck
with gladness for they're other lives
and we would make our children glad
we'll rig the odds and call it luck
while setting forth on jaunty drives
there's no good reason to be sad
what they call justice is a passing fad
we are determined and we're not stuck
let other folk sweat and break out in hives
what we have done would drive a human mad
there's nothing in the tears of grieving wives
we're powerful and we don't give a fuck
whether you live are wounded or just die
means less to us than our most sacred lie

all of the wonder

a moment's sense of what is truly light
no weight of darkness sits upon your head
you do the things you know are right
a moment's sense of what is truly light

a sort of magic intervenes in sight
another answer might provoke much dread
a moment's sense of what is truly light
no weight of darkness sits upon your head

all of our pay must go for heat and bread
the process that we see will end in night
our children at the least will be well-fed
all of our pay must go for heat and bread

we say the things that should be left unsaid
no matter what we're all in the same plight
all of our pay must go for heat and bread
the process that we see will end in night

each generation thinks itself more bright
that all ancestors though they are still led
by those whose consciences are but slight
each generation thinks itself more bright

our truest selves are present in the rite
from this brave presence every fear has fled
each generation thinks itself more bright
than all ancestors though they are still led

stolen wisdom

we have no answer for this ancient trade
no vision comes although we may require
a sort of sense that may withstand the fire
but we must face the future without aid
a remnant army forms this new parade
new folk will to old honours yet aspire
strength and courage are always on hire
there is a proper way to see things made
what knowledge we have is of lesser kind
a morning's worth of harmony is left
but in the light there is not any harm
our interlocutors are rendered blind
the burdens given have but little heft
and we have no defence but simple charm

murmur name upon name

what we envision is not absolute
the truth we seek is of a narrow kind
our great desire we cannot institute
what we envision is not absolute

hearken to violin and to the flute
music describes just what we cannot find
what we envision is not absolute
the truth we seek is of a narrow kind

the oldest practice we'd do best to shun
call it tradition and we've been enslaved
you'd never take our work to be plain fun
the oldest practice we'd do best to shun

when it is night others can see our sun
even the ones that we would call depraved
the oldest practice we'd do best to shun
call it tradition and we've been enslaved

regret's a fine thing when it is not ours
we should be saddened by another's pain
each of us retreats to our own towers
regret's a fine thing when it is not ours

day is long gone but we've seen no showers
our souls like grass are longing for the rain
regret's a fine thing when it is not ours
we should be saddened by another's pain

a sort of apology

When I commit an error it's a beaut,
I'm driven mad when I can't be precise,
order's what separates human from brute;
when I commit an error it's a beaut.

Now some might say that this response is cute
but that with me cannot cut any ice;
when I commit an error it's a beaut,
I'm driven mad when I can't be precise.

not simple questions these

to what old fallacy will we now fall
our minds half-broken by the daily task
we can no longer answer history's call
to what old fallacy will we now fall

a sort of answer must pervade the all
truth does not hide behind an actor's mask
to what old fallacy will we now fall
our minds half-broken by the daily task

we bear a promise that we did not ask
our hearts grow heavier with fading day
wine dribbles out from the half-empty flask
we bear a promise that we did not ask

we'd trap the spirit back within its cask
and let the end of light our tired hopes slay
we bear a promise that we did not ask
our hearts grow heavier with fading day

let others waste their lives for little pay
a mission that is asked for seems so rare
the sun will set on this forgotten bay
let others waste their lives for little pay

we don't expect to flee the noble ray
but all we've learned is how to run and fear
let others waste their lives for little pay
a mission that is asked for seems so rare

we'll shave the truth down and let pare
life down to those things we most lack
we'll let life criticise the whole affair
we'll shave the truth down and let pare

the ones who answer never seem to care
they're just concerned about staying on track
we'll shave the truth down and let pare
life down to those things we most lack

if we reply will history answer back
or must we stay in place and wait in vain
the story's told by some benighted hack
if we reply will history answer back

it doesn't take too much for hearts to crack
we wait and wait and do not see the rain
if we reply will history answer back
or must we stay in place and wait in vain

no sort of explanation makes things plain
green is the colour that most masks desire
we have some hope of honour and of gain
no sort of explanation makes things plain

if we could undertake to stand the strain
we'd let matters come right down to the wire
no sort of explanation makes things plain
green is the colour that most masks desire

you won't despair if we don't light the fire
a host of worries rises with each thought
we praise the calm and will eschew the ire
you won't despair if we don't light the fire

the greatest maker is the finest liar
the greatest gap comes between is and ought
you won't despair if we don't light the fire
a host of worries rises with each thought

the signal comes to one who has been bought
he'll set the blaze and kill those who stand tall
we'll soon find out what our great gifts have wrought
the signal comes to one who has been bought

the greatest battles have yet to be fought
our hero's never yet been on the ball
the signal comes to one who has been bought
he'll set the blaze and kill those who stand tall

our lives and times the future must appal
in a false sunlight we all seem to bask
we run when we as yet can scarcely crawl
our lives and times the future must appal

so when we stop and sing and shout and bawl
we're all afraid of what we might unmask
our lives and times the future must appall
in a false sunlight we all seem to bask

a name of power

we ask the gods to fill each aching heart
with answers to the pain but they are dumb
our thoughts are frozen and our bodies numb
we seem but puppets set to play a part
doomed if we but knew it from the start
the victims of some random divine thumb
while in the background lutes and lyres strum
and critics judge our pain to be bad art
allow some time and we may find a home
for all the angry thoughts that are at play
about the things that we cannot control
we're held on strings and not allowed to roam
we know our time is a short cloudy day
but still we yearn and hope to be made whole

a distant thunder

we add things up to get the sum of pain
a mere misstep and we're deep in the soup
we wait and wait but still it will not rain

it's tempting to see matters as just plain
the world needs time to rest and to regroup
we add things up to get the sum of pain

at no time will we know the best of gain
until our hopes have grown and flown the coop
we wait and wait but still it will not rain

the wind may do its best but we just strain
the proper answer seems outside the loop
we add things up to get the sum of pain

we know that we can't beat the human stain
while swallows in vast numbers soar and swoop
we wait and wait but still it will not rain

to sit and think just goes against the grain
to conquer we must do far more than stoop
we add things up to get the sum of pain
we wait and wait but still it will not rain

on the morrow

name we forget and then beyond recall
go names and numbers all the living fact
that holds us present we have never lacked
reason to think that someday we would fall
we know that one fate will receive us all
but if we speak we know we must show tact
it does not matter if our hearts are wracked
the thing to do is stand up proud and tall
we can't announce the meaning of the chime
the word must be avoided on the road
our minds must never touch a certain thought
all of our lives must be considered prime
we are so fearful of that hidden goad
and do not question just what we have wrought
we have not learned the lesson we were taught
we blame our forebears or we blame the time
but still we knew and any could forebode
the meaning of each travesty or crime
know that our bodies could not take the load
and that true justice always has been bought
a glow we notice coming through the trees
may liberate or make all hearts to freeze

what we understand

with simple thought we spare much grief
the depth of pain each one will surely learn
a sort of fire that leaves the harshest burn
we are not here permitted some relief
our hearts and minds are subject to some thief
wisdom we find no longer serves our turn
but for the simple life we still may yearn
our height of cynicism will beggar belief
of all the symbols ours remains the best
we aren't the ones who've been fated to fail
with no reprieve we still must reach our goal
life's a lot more than just another test
we steer a course between liberty and gaol
and if we're lucky make it through still whole

breaking the flood

we know our hopes cannot be wrong
they are the things that keep us going
we want to jump and start a song

day after day the season long
we wonder why it isn't snowing
we know our hopes cannot be wrong

our sense is always far too strong
our eyes just will not stop glowing
we want to jump and start a song

if you with us will march along
in these new fields we will be hoeing
we know our hopes cannot be wrong

we'll chase out those who don't belong
and keep the ones we would be showing
we want to jump and start a song

i want to hammer on the gong
as long as any river's flowing
we know our hopes cannot be wrong
we want to jump and start a song

head first into the future

stay calm when others start to go wild
your job is to keep order to the last
to keep the present right out of the past
and differentiate parent from child
our answers have been properly styled
at our bravado others stand aghast
our message has been nailed to the mast
and all our rivals have been beguiled
a name we hear turns into a threat
what we may see is never truly real
any old lie will suffice in a pinch
i know that you will dare to take the bet
and watch as others make the final deal
while you are dying slowly inch by inch

waiting for rain

we are allowed to wish for rain
the drought has lasted far too long
our will and our desire are plain
we are allowed to wish for rain

we want to see tomatoes gain
a rich full redness worth a song
we are allowed to wish for rain
the drought has lasted far too long

the news is filled with tales of floods
and raging waters on the streets
beneath those waters rotting spuds
the news is filled with tales of floods

we want our hopes not to be duds
we long to hear the thunder's beats
the news is filled with tales of floods
and raging waters on the streets

for here the rain may pass us by
we see a miracle of evil sort
others get wet while we stay dry
for here the rain may pass us by

deities of weather we'll defy
our hope in darkest clouds is caught
for here the rain may pass us by
we see a miracle of evil sort

a luta continua

all we desire is a new hope
despair's a word for tired folk
we pay out greater lengths of rope
all we desire is a new hope

each of us has learned to cope
we've cast off every heavy yoke
all we desire is a new hope
despair's a word for tired folk

becoming adult

wit is no substitute for plain good sense
no answer comes to those who never ask
not one of us to knowledge makes pretense
wit is no substitute for plain good sense

against such assault is no good defence
it’s not enough to succeed at your task
wit is no substitute for plain good sense
no answer comes to those who never ask

you can’t inquire what lies behind the mask
that’s not your job and you have no need
just take a sip from this right handy flask
you can’t inquire what lies behind the mask

perhaps in sunshine you deserve to bask
but to get there you need a proper speed
you can’t inquire what lies behind the mask
that’s not your job and you have no need

it’s not sufficient to relinquish greed
you’ve got to say that you have got enough
to my stern warnings you should now pay heed
it’s not sufficient to relinquish greed

the thought counts for much more than the deed
you find this out because all life is tough
it’s not sufficient to relinquish greed
you’ve got to say that you have got enough

waiting

a deeper magic than the ones we know
will take us out to places past our view
outside the leaves give off a golden glow
a deeper magic than the ones we know

we hope that our small plants will grow
the fruit they bear will be fresh and new
a deeper magic than the ones we know
will take us out to places past our view

the creed of youth

who wants these days to take much thought
the world's for those who cheat and lie
we should not punish those we've caught
who wants these days to take much thought

we can't replace what others wrought
but can aspire to reach the sky
who wants these days to take much thought
the world's for those who cheat and lie

zombie uprising day

zombies have rights as we should know
they need fair treatment with their brains
you just sit back and watch the show

the ground has got a spectral glow
we hear the sound of distant trains
zombies have rights as we should know

we see them shambling in a row
the cynic boggles and then strains
you just sit back and watch the show

these monstrous beings are firm and slow
they've not been puzzled by the rains
zombies have rights as we should know

along the ground the mist will flow
all that is left of us are stains
you just sit back and watch the show

in some dark place foul beings grow
their scent reminds us of clogged drains
zombies have rights as we should know
you just sit back and watch the show

a summer's tale

no one would want to take the cure
when the result's a different self
each of us sees themself as pure
no one would want to take the cure

our choices will not long endure
all that we want is simple pelf
no one would want to take the cure
when the result's a different self

we took the answer off the shelf
there was no other shining lure
the truth emerges of itself
we took the answer off the shelf

beings of story dwarf and elf
are always brave and not demure
we too the answer off the shelf
there was no other shing lure

but other beings swim the sewer
i've seen the monsters there myself
the vision that you have is newer
but other beings swim the sure

our foes will number ever fewer
the change will simply build itself
but other beings swim the sewer
i've seen the monsters there myself

nice work

i cannot tell just what i've learned
from all these years of pain and joy
life's much more than a simple toy
it must be taken and not spurned
we get far less than we have earned
the prize too often's a decoy
and all we do seems to annoy
every human being's been burned
allow me to define just how
i find myself in this clear place
before the road leads steady down
i've done more than i can say now
not all is written on my face
and i've no chance to win the crown

crane beach

who knows the secret noble name
bright as a sword but not as known
each journey turns into a game
who knows the secret noble name

away from hope of pride or fame
we note the desert and the sown
who knows the secret noble name
bright as a sword but not as known

alone on the bright sheltered beach
nothing before me but the sea
the world seems just beyond my reach
alone on the bright sheltered beach

now all i can do is beseech
the ones who much further can see
alone on the bright sheltered beach
nothing before me but the sea

i've no idea what's come to pass
to those who made that same day-trip
they showed the world both style and class
i've no idea what's come to pass

the breeze that moves the leaves and grass
takes forming words from off my lip
i've no idea what's come to pass
to those who made the same day-trip

i found my back could heat and burn
i'm not immune to harm and pain
i had so much to do and learn
i found my cak could heat and burn

now i'm the one who has to turn
and let the younger make the gain
i found my back could heat and burn
i'm not immune to harm and pain

that day my eyes were wild and red
my heart remained just in its place
i can't remember what was said
that day my eyes were wild and red

the images that haunt my head
go on to fill infinite space
that day my eyes were wild and red
my heart remained just in its place

it was a chance to take my way
far out beyond the normal road
to make of that a greater day
it was a chance to take my way

a time that was given to play
to drop the burden and the load
it was a chance to take my way
far out beyond the normal road

all innocent i could not know
all that went on beyond my eyes
all that i saw was sandy glow
all innocent i could not know

all day i knew that things would go
no further than i could surmise
all innocent i could not know
all that went on beyond my eyes

each mangrove root remains in sight
no bit of it was left behind
the reason seems inane and slight
each mangrove root remains in sight

i've learned since then to do things right
and let the thoughts just fill my mind
each mangrove root remains in sight
no bit of it was left behind

the journey back seemed all too short
i knew i'd seen a different world
not something i would say in sport
the journey back seemed all too short

all in the end should come to nought
the heart within the breast is curled
the journey back seemed all too short
i knew i'd seen a different world

the benison

there isn't room for any gain
beyond what we hope to receive
the thing that all of us see plain
there isn't room for any gain

at times we worry at the strain
there's been no reason to deceive
there isn't room for any gain
beyond what we hope to receive

waiting for strawberries

i'm tired and that's the simple fact
my mind's been frozen into place
there is so much that i have lacked
i'm tired and that's the simple fact

my dizzy head with thought is racked
the anguish shows right in my face
i'm tired and that's the simple fact
my mind's been frozen into place

Small world

The world I say's a tiny place
there aren't a lot of people here,
we know, from travel far and near,
we'll always find a well-known face.
I cross the sea, I've left no trace
of where I was, the ground is sere,
and yet I've come upon friends dear
whose travels also match my pace.
I never know from where they'll pop
but they are there when I turn round
surprised but still with cheery hail.
I have a feeling it won't stop
until my body's deep in ground
or else when all of life must fail.

storm warning

the sky will weigh on every single back
we hate the winter but can't take the spring
the light reminds us of all that we lack

the storm has driven us far off the track
we hear the cry of bird with broken wing
the sky will weigh on every single back

no old crone's here to pop us in a sack
but still we worry what new day will bring
the light reminds us of all that we lack

our hearts right now could not withstand attack
we're trapped within a slowly closing ring
the sky will weigh on every single back

the bonds that link us have become too slack
but no ties can protect us from the sting
the light reminds us of all that we lack

and at the end we know we'll fade to black
none will remember and no one will sing
the sky will weigh on every single back
the light reminds us of all that we lack

just too hot

light makes new shadows
a fly buzzes lazily
still i hate myself

and then there's laughter

a sort of magic evolves through the night
with music that comes straight down from the stars
we pass from dream to dream back to the light

our hearts and livers never have been right
we see ourselves through barriers and bars
a sort of magic evolves through the night

awake or sleeping we're in the same plight
we see the world through visions of fast cars
we pass from dream to dream back to the light

we cannot stop nor pause throughout the flight
below the ship bears tatters on its spars
a sort of magic evolves through the night

we can't replay those visions with true sight
our souls and bodies can't withstand these jars
we pass from dream to dream back to the light

not one of us who knows what is true might
we play the same old tunes on our guitars
a sort of magic evolves through the night
we pass from dream to dream back to the light

once there was a pathway

a cloth that on the bed is draped
reminds us of some other day
hope in each mind is ever shaped
a cloth that on the bed is draped

we know that we have not escaped
because we've never found the way
a cloth that on the bed is draped
reminds us of some other day

if we had chosen the high path
we would have found another hope
there would have been no aftermath
if we had chosen the high path

and so we must in calm or wrath
turn backs to sea and climb the slope
if we had chosen the high path
we would have found another hope

across the valley one bright tree
announces its time of the year
with all who speak i can't agree
across the valley one bright tree

beyond the ridge there lies the sea
but on it's nothing we hold dear
across the valley one bright tree
announces its time of the year

our thoughts are always far away
we know we have to leave this place
where we should go we cannot say
our thoughts are always far awa

we've got no time to laugh or play
we're told that we're each a disgrace
our thoughts are always far away
we know we have to leave this place

in dreams we populate each hill
with folk whose natures are all bright
we shouldn't come this way but still
in dreams we populate each hill

the world won't answer to our will
we seem to have no choice but flight
in dreams we populate each hill
with folk whose natures are all bright

not one who sees but knows our thought
is focused on some future time
so little that we here have wrought
not one who sees but knows our thought

all of our minds in dreams seem caught
we move from earth to the sublime
not one who sees but knows our thought
is focused on some future time

were we to journey there again
we would not recognise the place
each footstep that cost us such pain
were were to journey there again

signals we know must reach the brain
but nothing shows upon each face
were we to journey there again
we would not recognise the place

we can't yet tell the gold from brass
the sea fills up all of the west
there's nothing here to show our class
we can't yet tell the gold from brass

somewhere beyond this mountain pass
we'll come upon some certain test
we can't yet tell the gold from brass
the sea fills up all of the west

were we upon that road to pause
we would not think of all the past
we'd jump straight from effect to cause
were we upon that road to pause

and yet we know that there are laws
that find their way to hold us fast
were we upon that road to pause
we would not think of all the past

to keep in mind

you've never asked just how to climb
the mountain that rears up so high
with peaks that seem to pierce the sky
and valley's where the air's sublime
over the miles we hear the chime
of bells that seem made to defy
the laws of nature while we pry
into the deepest recesses of time
what other kind of story's told
about the places where we'd flee
when the time comes to run and hide
we won't regard the wind and cold
nor all the distance from the sea
as long as we can keep our pride

under the clouds

a sort of anguish hangs beneath the trees
where hidden monsters all gather to eat
there's hardly any movement of the breeze
a sort of anguish hangs beneath the tree

pain comes the fill the absence of all ease
terror and desperation have to meet
a sort of anguish hangs beneath the trees
where hidden monsters all gather to eat

a model of reality

i fight hot edit wars inside my head
the fools like flies must succumb to my whisk
the struggle will go on until i'm dead

my realm of thought's extensive and widespread
yet every day it's what i put at risk
i fight hot edit wars inside my head

i am the one who faces all with dread
but still i know of frolic and of frisk
the struggle will go on until i'm dead

the armies still advance with steady tread
you can sit back and sup on lobster bisque
i fight hot edit wars inside my head

there's not one thing that we can take as read
until we get it down upon the disk
the struggle will go on until i'm dead

so we'll continue till all has been said
and all our wealth is eaten by the fisc
i fight hot edit wars inside my head
the struggle will go on until i'm dead

a sort of pause

nothing of moment
butterfly in the garden
summer arriving

bent under sunshine
i watch the busy workers
toiling in this heat

accepting payment
the fruits they ripen slowly
promise of pleasure

experiential knowledge

good sense is not a thing that can be taught
every mistake's a coin dropped in the bank
each of us knows just what we have wrought
good sense is not a thing that can be taught

the joyful fish is one that will be caught
it will get dropped right into the tank
good sense is not a thing that can be taught
every mistake's a coin dropped in the bank

heard all before

They will not matter, all the words you speak;
the ones who make the rules just do not care
the strong and powerful just ignore the weak.

In all directions there's one prognosis: bleak.
There's nothing to be set out as our share,
they will not matter all the words you speak.

We're all alone and must therefore be meek
although we know the boss is never fair;
the strong and powerful just ignore the weak.

Our righteous anger is dismissed as pique,
we're told we're lucky we don't pay for the air;
they will not matter all the words you speak.

Should any come they'll not find what they seek
since nothing will be given us but fear;
the strong and powerful just ignore the weak.

Justice and honour might as well be Greek
since what we face is simply power laid bare;
they will not matter all the words you speak,
the strong and powerful just ignore the weak.

swellhead the tyrant

a name that we forget is not a name
truth that's not spoken is not really true
shame that's unfelt isn't true shame
a name that we forget is not a name

we are the ones who always win the game
our rivals can all shout till they turn blue
a name that we forget is not a name
truth that's not spoken is not really true

our sense of what is right can't ever fail
for if it did then we would all be lost
our sense of honour never will be stale
our sense of what is right can't ever fail

against all changes we will loudly rail
we'll shift to others all the heavy cost
our sense of what is right can't ever fail
for if it did then we would all be lost

a matter then of what is fair and just
and that will be what gives us greater power
our challengers will have to eat our dust
a matter then of what is fair and just

we can't let any swords fall prey to rust
we need our weapons ready for this hour
a matter then of what is fair and just
and that will be what gives us greater power

a glooming peace

almost we cannot shift the weight
it bears upon us with great pain
as we await the healing rain
each of us wonders at our fate
the sense of shock will not abate
it's not a matter of loss or gain
but of how far we might restrain
the power that would break the slate
never have we required the load
that once was carried by the strong
to break the backs of those who wait
instead the weight has been a goad
to move although the road is long
and we may never reach the gate

ninetyseven degrees

torrid the day and slight the breeze
a shimmer seems to coat each leaf
i sit here dreamy at my ease
torrid the day and slight the breeze

i can't see through the line of trees
if i'm outside it's very brief
torrid the day and slight the breeze
a shimmer seems to coat each leaf

in the raw web

there's never fiction in the light
the time for telling tales is dark
what we decide to read and mark
seems much more lofty in the night
and yet we see with normal sight
past the rough and peeling bark
into the place that's wholly stark
and manage to control our fright
a story can build years of fear
in any mind that's fresh and young
things always seem just out of place
when we have no choice but to hear
the bitterness of aging tongue
and see the anger in each face

a certain kind of magic

we'll always get the best return
life treats us all so very well
no power will our presence spurn
we'll always get the best return

our foes all hope that we will burn
each in our own peculiar hell
we'll always get the best return
life treats us all so very well

what we have got we didn't earn
but wealth has never had a smell
we'll do ourselves a better turn
what we have got we didn't earn

to comfort will we soon adjourn
what we now know we will not tell
what we have got we didn't earn
but wealth has never had a smell

you may look both bold and stern
but you'll soon fall under our spell
you anxious folk will never learn
you may look both bold and stern

you'll have no choice but now to turn
your earnestness we have to quell
you may look both bold and stern
but you'll soon fall under our spell

above wild waters

had we some reason for fear or regret
our tears would flow to fill the very sea
still we have not won every race just yet

although we're not permitted to forget
our masters tell us that we'd now be free
had we some reason for fear or regret

our flawless records won't soon be upset
there's always been a call to let things be
still we have not won every race just yet

all of our senses tell us there's a threat
yet we'd succumb and bow and bend the knee
had we some reason for fear or regret

our common sense just will not let us fret
about how far we've fallen from the tree
still we have not won every race just yet

so we have got the sense to see what's set
before us may allow us soon to see
had we some reason for fear or regret
still we have not won every race just yet

optimism

there's never any need for worry
so we're told by those who rest
their minds are ever weak and blurry
there's never any need for worry

our lives are passed in a great hurry
each day we face another test
there's never any need for worry
so we're told by those who rest

at the end of pilgrimage

at each corner of the crossing
stand tall statues of the keepers
stern they are and quite forbidding
but one seems to smile in secret
let the watcher pause a moment
and the hidden power will touch her
not for us the open comment
hearts are not scared of the darkness

still we want to run together
turn away from normal questions
earn the truth that we were promised
while the power around us falters
long departed secret master
tells us nothing we find useful
rather he seeks to mislead us
draw us deeper into sorrow

at the crossing of the river
we saw miracles not happen
thunder crashed high on the mountain
but down here was perfect weather
as we sit and drink our breakfast
others plot against our freedom
but the ones who claim to guard us
can't tell arses clear from elbows

so we have ourselves a problem
no one who has sense will answer
we've been told about a vision
vouchafed only to the wisest
but the folk who claim to know it
haven't got the sense of sparrows
we are stuck with nothing better
than the hope of life unfinished

no wild centuries

when you awake and hear the birdies sing
it takes you back across the years and miles
your mind reopens old and dusty files
inside your head you see them on the wing
a different sort of life these woods must bring
on this hard mainland far from quiet isles
but still the watcher slowly nods and smiles
life calls on you to live always in spring
a spray of water soothes and cools the green
the air is still and so much can be heard
above white clouds move steady in the blue
you are the one who best knows what you've seen
there's meaning in the movement of the bird
and that you're certain won't change with the view

in the shrubbery

there's no time to celebrate folly
we just have to dust ourselves off
refurl that once-opened brolly
there's no time to celebrate folly

our folks want us jocund and jolly
ignoring each wet hacking cough
there's no time to celebrate folly
we just have to dust ourselves off

the voice of power

what news arrives we will not hear
our minds are closed as are our hearts
we hold our wealth and trade most dear
what news arrives we will not hear

no limits should we heed or bear
we're proof against the sharpest darts
what news arrives we will not hear
our minds are closed as are our hearts

we make it true or else

we aren't aware of what's been hurt
by all the changes that we've made
our minds can't see the sad parade
we treat them all with manner curt
there'll be no chance to shout or blurt
the truth that a spade is still a spade
they'll feel the touch of boot or blade
and lie there weeping in the dirt
all healthy folk look on the place
where winners stand and take the prize
we know they've got what they deserve
only the swift can win the race
only the great have fearless eyes
the rest may only scrape and serve

staying the moment

each angle chosen
does not only change the view
it alters feeling

let us call the sky
more than a blue coverlet
it is our temple

love is a knowing
each of us takes the other
into our being

under this vast blue
sun dancing only for us
we find our true home

a moment of acceptance

if we just change our point of view
we'll see a different sort of light
all that is dull will then seem new

i've walked barefoot in morning dew
and wondered how it seems so bright
if we just change our point of view

good chances seem to come to few
our spirits though have taken flight
all that is dull will then seem new

we have some chance of coming through
and making sure that things are right
if we just change our point of view

above our heads the sky's still blue
we'll do our best to end all blight
all that is dull will then seem new

our hope is to receive what's due
to our own hearts and face the night
if we just change our point of view
all that is dull will then seem new

listening to orff

let us give the players thanks
they've made noble seeming
and the singers in their ranks
in the lights are gleaming

we've sat here so many times
listening to their playing
strings and horns and drums and chimes
we know what they are saying

all the days we work to know
just where we are going
but these folk know how to show
and are proud in the showing

all our lives we've wanted song
to tell us our passions
now we learn that we were wrong
and are on short rations

let the ones who take our cash
know that we are grounded
we're not hasty and not rash
our fears are well-founded

now we watch the singers rise
in a single movement
their song reaches to the skies
needing no improvement

the bassoonist chants along
he should get a single rose
while we listen to the song
a lone cellist blows her nose

we've been taken from our place
by this magic playing
minds are whirling in deep space
while our heads are greying

let's be sure of what we do
all our thoughts are tending
to give us a single view
of how life is bending

now we come to shout our praise
the concert is over
but we'll know for all our days
fortune is a rover

june afternoon

leaves shine in the sun
slow wind is almost not there
it is just too hot

ninetyone degrees
the number does not seem real
it is unblinking

we long for cool rain
the grass slowly turning brown
seems a grave warning

a very long journey

there's nothing to do now but share
we're set on our course to the stars
no reason for worry nor care
there's nothing to do now but share

if we'd had some reason to fear
it vanished before we reached mars
there's nothing to do now but share
we're set on our course for the stars

far beyond where eagles might dare
we've left behind quarrels and jars
our chances have been quaint and rare
far beyond where eagles might dare

the masses will halt now and stare
then get back into their old cars
we've got courage and daring to spare
the masses will halt now and stare

far out in deep space we must fare
beyond old humanity's bars
far beyond your old bluster and blare
far out in deep space we must fare

we've no dread of any nightmare
but for fun we will play our guitars
far out in deep space we must fare
beyond old humanity's bars

the cancelled debt

what's been free given is not truly lost
at times we move to a much swifter pace
but being human will not count the cost

out on the stream each one of us is tossed
and then we're told the whole thing is a race
what's been free given is not truly lost

the ones who do the bossing and the bossed
know what is false and what is still the case
but being human will not count the cost

at least we know the price of being crossed
means we're held back and lose our precious place
what's been free given is not truly lost

the meaning's one that can be swiftly glossed
we play the king yet cannot play the ace
but being human will not count the cost

we're ready for what comes both heat and frost
each sees the future with a steady face
what's been free given is not truly lost
but being human will not count the cost

redefinition of the day

the storm that comes is not the one we need
here all alone we know the empty heart
upon our minds the anxious thoughts will feed

what's left to know is but the magic deed
which makes the prestidigitator smart
the storm that comes is not the one we need

wise gardeners tell the flower from the weed
uproot the latter and throw it on the cart
upon our minds the anxious thought will feed

life is the force that makes each of us bleed
but no one dares to tell us at the start
the storm that comes is not the one we need

too late the dancers begin to take heed
the clouds are doing their predestined part
upon our minds the anxious thought will feed

life's far too short to give in to vile greed
instead we need to choose our proper art
the storm that comes is not the one we need
upon our minds the anxious thought will feed

hurry up and wait

the reader that i want i cannot know
they are not me that's true and clear
caught up in the complexity of flow
the reader that i want i cannot know

all such matters are i'm told just so
they fall between the speaker and the ear
the reader that i want i cannot know
they are not me that's true and clear

blinded by shadows i deplore the fact
that others may not read just what i write
my thought and theory are what they lacked
blinded by shadows i deplore the fact

the signal has now thoroughly been hacked
no messenger today remains in sight
blinded by shadows i deplore the fact
that others may not read just what i write

stories once told belong to the whole world
the author's just the one who found the tale
the flag of commonsense has been unfurled
stories once told belong to the whole world

the reader in their tiny corner curled
must give some merit to the tiny sale
stories once told belong to the whole world
the author's just the one who found the tale

at times i wonder just what thought requires
of those of us who have been paid to think
there's not a glow from those far-distant fires
at times i wonder just what thought requires

at day's end there's no sound of lutes or lyres
from no sure spring have i been taught to drink
at times i wonder just what thought requires
of those of us who have been paid to think

let this remain we've gone beyond the line
and seen more wonders than we might believe
too late we turn to laughter and to wine
let this remain we've gone beyond the line

for our old innocence we will not pine
those who would seek to keep it all deceive
let this remain we've gone beyond the line
and seen more wonders than we might believe

clouds do not let us see the noble sight
of light upon the darkly brilliant leaves
we can't claim any places by plain right
clouds do not let us see the noble sight

we will not be the victims of such fright
nor will we advertise that nature grieves
clouds do not let us see the noble sight
of light upon the darkly brilliant leaves

hope should rest lightly upon every heart
but that's the way of things under the sky
we watch the happy swallows swoop and dart
hope should rest lightly upon every heart

we leave the aftermath to complex art
we tell the truth in manner of a lie
hope should rest lightly upon every heart
but that's the way of things under the sky

what's true is more than we are ever told
the false comes better packaged every day
the world we know is always harsh and cold
what's true is more than we are ever told

the dullest brass will pass for brightest gold
the actors will seem better than the play
what's true is more than we are ever told
the false comes better packaged every day

reflect upon the truth that time's too short
and you will wonder at the scale of waste
enough to worry at expense of thought
reflect upon the truth that time's too short

your rivals will not win at this last court
they fail from scurry and excess of haste
reflect upon the truth that time's too short
and you will wonder at the scale of waste

sufficient knowledge

there's nothing left for us to know
except the reasons for our pain
life's nothing but a puppet-show
there's nothing left for us to know

outside the leaves shimmer and glow
the trees and grass just long for rain
there's nothing left for us to know
life's nothing but a puppet-show

at times we wonder at the strain
the quarrel beckons and the row
so much there is that seems so plain
at times we wonder at the strain

the human presence seems a stain
our hearts and minds are just so slow
at times we wonder at the strain
the quarrel beckons and the row

we're caught within the ebb and flow
just on the edge of the great main
we hear the morning cock will crow
we're caught within the ebb and flow

daily the signals come and go
at night we look for charles's wain
we're caught within the ebb and flow
just on the edge of the great main

the voice of cassandra

we know that every dream will just go smash
our hopes and happiness will simply fly
and all our longed-for beauties turn to ash

there'll be some moment just before the crash
when we may just be able to ask why
we know that every dream will just go smash

our parents knew the burden and the lash
yet we sought with all vanity to reach high
and all our longed-for beauties turn to ash

the monster that's to come will gnaw and gnash
not one who praises us will hear our cry
we know that every dream will just go smash

we thought the doomsters were just raw and rash
but now their honesty none can deny
and all our longed-for beauties turn to ash

our victories just vanish in a flash
defeat and desolation we'll descry
we know that every dream will just go smash
and all our longed-for beauties turn to ash

hoping for evening

now we have windows into vanished spaces
pasts that have gone almost beyond recall
each of us wonders at the sort of places

could be considered how the visions fall
not just upon the eye but on the heart
one keeps on looking soaking in it all

these are the creatures of some larger art
but we aren't the onces who should critique
we can't choose but to play a proper part

our lives and passions are no way unique
but we must live them and attempt to find
the thing that keeps us moving week to week

almost the passion makes us deaf and blind
but still the light that guides us does not fade
and our stern purpose is still kept in mind

so hot outside the lions seek the shade
their prey will just escape them in this heat
yet the mad human must go on parade

still the policeman must patrol his beat
and watch as shadows move at glacial pace
while others in cool water soak their feet

we're caught up in an ever-changing race
and yet we know we cannot truly run
and so must find some manner to save face

the brightest flower will quail before this sun
not one of us but will withhold our pride
the greatest player will not have any fun

so what the music issues from each side
we aren't the ones who want to hear the sound
at this point we just want to end the ride

and hold on to some tiny bit of ground
where we can make our simple claim of right
some such a paradise others have found

meanwhile we hope for a much kinder light

and still the glow

upon my soul there's been no ease
to my full heart these many days
i've not been warmed by solar rays
there's been no cooling in the breeze
it's summer so it will not freeze
hard light upon the leaves now plays
outside we see the brownish haze
what's here and now just will not please
but name the hap and it will be
another world and still more time
would not provide a better chance
than what we have so far from sea
as day now falters from the prime
our hearts still want to leap and dance

losing the plot

we've lost the plot and have to fail
our lives are measured out in drops
the signals that we get are stale
we've lost the plot and have to fail

it's certain we'll all be on sale
as counting no more than the props
we've lost the plot and have to fail
our lives are measured out in drops

and yet our lives are total flops
we've still got water in the pail
we'll calm the guardians with sops
and yet our lives are total flops

the signal we get never stops
against the fact we always rail
and yet our lives are total flops
we've still got water in the pail

the human fate female or male
is one that never truly stops
it's more than just a case of scale
the human fate female or male

so what our hopes are dull and pale
no rain has come to wake the crops
the human fate female or male
is one that never truly stops

we come to understand

the numbers do not ever lie
they tell us we've already lost
we might as well lie down and die

all seems so calm to naïve eye
it judges heat alike with frost
the numbers do not ever lie

all birds have ceased at last to fly
the empty space will not be crossed
we might as well lie down and die

no clouds are up there in the sky
there's no one out there to accost
the numbers do not ever lie

we note the failure of the spry
the letter's been sealed and embossed
we might as well lie down and die

no reason's left for us to spy
we cannot ever meet the cost
the numbers do not ever lie
we might as well lie down and die

and in the end know waste and loss

what this coin tells us cannot be enough
who dropped it here long years ago
where have they vanished in the flow
we pause to wonder at this stuff

our hopes are based on what we know
all other things are waste and fluff
our minds are clear and voices gruff
acts must be quick and never slow

such answers as we get are rough
in such soil little good could grow
no one has time to watch the show
one lost his pay now that's just tough

always we're clear we'll lose the glow
and all our hopes harsh life will snuff
and whether in calm mood or huff
our lives will pass in the long flow

let this be said by those who pause
our history's a tale of flaws
we'll rue the treasures we come across
and in the end know waste and loss

from the mountaintop

over the horizon we can't see
what folk are doing with their time
no answer comes to our faint plea
over the horizon we can't see

strange fruit will grow upon a tree
and none will suffer for their crime
over the horizon we can't see
what folk are doing with their time

I am the Stalin of my mind

When I was young I told the truth
just as I saw it, in a fine tale;
that was an error of my youth
and now against it I shall rail.
Now I'm real famous, and my words
carry more weight than once they did,
so I must challenge those bright birds
who will not do just as I bid;
I alone may say just what I mean,
all others must to me give way.
I am the master of this scene,
I'm the sole author of this play.
Now as my glory seems away to fly
I'll try to save it with a blatant lie.

tales of a simple folk

there are no monsters on forested hill
lions and leopards don't live in this place
but beings of some superhuman race
seen on the traveller to gorge their fill
or make you subject to their nasty will
they will approach with pleasant open face
like angels or other ministers of grace
and then will throw you right into the swill
the sweet old lady's just another witch
she will beguile you and then eat your soul
your body will lie buried in the mud
the pleasant path will lead right to a ditch
you'll fall right down into the devil's hole
and unnamed horrors will sup on your blood

at the flood

at no time do we want to leave
our hearts are full and overflow
the truth is hidden up each sleeve
at no time do we want to leave

there's never any time to grieve
we have no chance to just go slow
at no time do we want to leave
our hearts are full and overflow

the honest way

to tell the truth may well seem rude
we are supposed to whine and mutter
when faced by angry multitude
to tell the truth may well seem rude

if you've a proper servile attitude
you'll eat your bread with tasty butter
to tell the truth may well seem rude
we are supposed to whine and mutter

messages sent along the wires
must be received with humble thanks
the sun's been hidden by the fires
messages sent along the wires

our masters one and all are liars
their happiness is in the banks
messages sent along the wires
must be received with humble thanks

the knowledge that all of us seek
is not the kind that shall set free
be servile humble soft and meek
the knowledge that all of us seek

we do our jobs week after week
new rings are added to the tree
the knowledge that all of us seek
is not the kind that shall set free

truth has been told but never heard
our eyes are focused on the past
our sense of duty's quite absurd
truth has been told but never heard

the secret's not in hidden word
the line into the lake's been cast
truth has been told but never heard
our eyes are focused on the past

the signal flag has not been flown
light shines upon the highest tower
the danger has not yet been shown
the signal flag has not been flown

we pass into the great unknown
one by one hour after hour
the signal flag has not been flown
light shines upon the highest tower

determined to achieve our goal
up mountain path we strive to climb
we're fearful of our proper role
determined to achieve our goal

alone we fear we'll be made whole
and have to account for our time
determined to achieve our goal
up mountain path we strive to climb

the sun will burn all things to white
make a clean fire of all our hope
we're all inured to fret and fright
the sun will burn all things to white

we've no idea of truth or right
our feet are set on the high slope
the sun will burn all things to white
make a clean fire of all our hope

all that we see was once well-hid
our vision is of a fine place
to serve and conquer we are bid
all that we see was once well hid

of all delusions we're well-rid
and know the confines of our space
all that we see was once well-hid
our vision is of a fine place

all of our hopes have turned to ash
but hearts are firm and minds are sure
we know the diamond from the trash
all of our hopes have turned to ash

we're worth much more than simple cash
the future's never been more secure
all of our hopes have turned to ash
but hearts are firm and minds are sure

obligation

our hands are guided as they move
the keys obey our every whim
we settle into this calm groove
our hands are guided as they move

we've nothing left to test or prove
but still can summon extra vim
our hands are guided as they move
the keys obey our every whim

the green banner

the names recall those who survived
a dove arises from the flames
it speaks of love and hope revived

justice is everywhere derived
without indulgence in old games
the names recall those who survived

once many here had grown and thrived
who now are mired within their shames
it speaks of love and hope revived

they have all journeyed and arrived
in concordance with well-known aims
the names recall those who survived

of nothing are they now deprived
but still they have set forth their claims
it speaks of love and hope revived

in pain and joy have they contrived
to fit all things into these frames
the names recall those who survived
it speaks of love and hope revived

awakening

a name that we can recognise
all of our childhood is in place
good luck arrives as single spies
a name that we can recognise

under approval of our eyes
clear light occupies a space
a name that we can recognise
all of our childhood is in place

reformed is this great enterprise
we watch the network interlace
not even the enemy denies
reformed is this great enterprise

the time will come when we arise
and darkness falls from every face
reformed is this great enterprise
we watch the network interlace

somebody may at last surmise
the answer and the way will trace
the victor's name will reach the skies
somebody may at last surmise

the winner may not get the prize
the loser must show proper grace
somebody may at last surmise
the answer and the way will trace

tropical mountain evening

where the birds vanish we don't know
at evening they fly from the day trees
their wings beat through air firm and slow
where the birds vanish we don't know

the fading light is just enough to show
the branches moving in the sultry breeze
where the birds vanish we don't know
at evening they fly from the day trees