Swept by the Current

Swept by the Current

 

Well the prophet sits in silence
Drawing circles with his hand;
Praying for attention
Beneath those bridges standing grand.
Like a storm the cars go screeching
Through the ancient numbered days,
Where redemption’s low on income
And demands a steady raise.
And while senators lose direction
As the poets lose their pride,
You’ll find once gentle mornings
Being swallowed by the tide.

 

Now I’m in the alley waiting   
With a gun of tattered words,
Drinking the carpenter’s wine glass
As I taunt the gardener’s birds.
“Fly away,” I screamed in anger,
“Eat your fill then say goodbye!
Can’t you see the world has fallen,
Or the blue has left the sky?”
But the evening it held no pity,
And the people they merely sighed,
So I sang another drunken song
And got swallowed by the tide.

 

Chagall he came by floating
Through the noisy city crowds;
Singing in the moonlight
Of those lovers in the clouds.
And I said, “Well that’s plain charming,
Though it’s most likely just rain.
If you wish to see some loving
Then you’re in for quite a pain.”
So he turned to me and grimaced
With his paintbrush at his side,
And he said I’d best go searching
Lest I’m swallowed by the tide.

 

So I walked down to the shoreline
Where great ships would sail away,
Tripping on dead branches
Which had fallen in the day.
How my mind was torn and strangled
Shouting curses with unrest,
Sending shivers down my spiny nerves
Into my fragile chest.
But then I cured my heartache
With some lyrical fluoride,
And I threw away my sorrows
Till they drowned within the tide.