Remember the Grapevine

Do you remember the grapevine? Do you? Do you remember the deer that stole from it? Do you remember the stream that fed it? Do you remember the dove that overhead flew? I can't recall any of it-- I don't breathe air I breathe smoke and fire; No I don't remember the grapevine. Do you remember spring in the grapevine? Do you? I remember the rabbits that slept in the grass And the stream that flowed beside them that gave Birth to bream and bass, That I swam in since I was five. Don't you Remember? What?! You woke me from my sleep; I'm watching T.V. -- Don't bother me! And no I don't remember the bloody grapevine!! Please, before you leave, don't you remember the taste of the grapes (at least)? How they burst in your mouth and danced down your throat, So that you thought you could sing the highest note? Please, wait; don't you remember the color, the taste? No; I'm a MAN and I only eat beef! I only see red, yellow, and green! I've had enough of you and your damn grapevine! I'm going to work, to labor and toil, To flood your beloved stream with oil, To burn away your grapevines once and for all, To substitute sad gray concrete for your soil! So shut your mouth about your grapevine While I slam the door! But you, Friends, you remember the grapevine: You remember running under the sun, Sitting in the woods for fun, Hearing the bell calling you at noon, Interrupting your travels so soon. I know you hate your cubicle, And the buildings that watch over your every move, And the checkbooks, the taxes, the bills, The pills, the kids, the dog, the cat, the car, Everything. So when you feel you're not living, As you must every day, forget the buildings, The bosses, and your work, forget everything. Leave room in your mind for one thing only: Remember the Grapevine. Go to the grapevine of yore with your troubles, That time when you were happy, That time of greens and blues, when you could think Of the grapevine and the grapevine alone.