It might have been easier put in simpler terms,
But that's just not the way I rock.
In times gone past, hardly noticed at first,
I should have paused -
Giving myself ample time to reflect before speaking -
But this, again, is not my nature.
So what came out was no doubt a mixture
Of truth and oh so clueless disguise,
But don't we all tend to do that?
I mean, don't we all?
So it's pointless now,
to some remembered,
to cast away some broken mane,
that the lion ever so soon abandoned
to the pockets of men now insane.
Retrieve, retrieve your blistered basket
filled to the brim with trampled sleeves
of one hundred and fifty million waistcoats
worn by men who us deceived.
Resound, resound in mighty hallways
in the dust of autumn afternoon light,
Let your voice now trickle upward
quickly before you lose your sight...
Quickly before you lose your sight...
Quickly before you lose your sight.
Copyright 2014 by Andrew T. Durham