Once he lost it
Once he truly lost it
He softened the blow
With a jar of tissues
Strung around his
Useless fingers
Twice he lost it
Twice he truly lost it
He fostered the Beards
With a sack of hate
Strung around his
Lonesome fingers
Thrice he found it
Thrice he truly found it
He gleaned the flash
Strung around his
Nimble fingers
But he didn’t know it
And he didn’t try
He lost himself
For the last time
In a field of wheat
He’d seen
many times before
In a life
he'll never know
I opened up
On the mountain of kindness
I sharpened my tools
On a mountain stones
I tarnished my socks
En route to Dublarney
I stashed all my gold
‘Neath the shivering stones
I lost Ithaca’s rubies
Midway up over Iceland
I painted my soul
Searching for the divine
I locked up the priestess
over lunch with devil
I locked up the devil
outside my front door
I closed it in silence
Gathered up all my bones -
Oh,
I
never want to see tomorrow
but I know I will
I say "What's life?"
You say "You're living."
I say "I've had my fill."
I’d be a giraffe.
Yeah, a giraffe!
Oh man that’d be so cool to be a giraffe!
I’d meander throughout the Serengeti looking
for the most delicious leafs on my four twiggy legs and hooves
without any fear of the lions or cheetahs or hyenas
because I’d be too beautiful to eat.
Oh! I’m getting excited just thinking about being a giraffe.
Just Imagine!
My long, snake-ish neck would stretch
far above the skulls
and shoulders of all the other animals on the Serengeti!
Oh man!
I’d be able to see for miles from up there,
checking out all the lady giraffes from far away,
and then I’d strut.
I’d strut my giraffey strut across the plains next to the best mate,
and I’d stick out my
long
black
tongue around the branches quite seductively and strip the branches of their leaf-clothes slowly,
and all the ladies would love me.
Oh man, it would be soooo awesome to be a giraffe.
