The Simpleton

Written by: Chad Wood

Loves he the soul, the unexpressed
                     also the press with grounds and water boiled
hot, steeping for minutes one, two, three,
                     also the cup with sweet milk filled.

Loves he each sip, in the right
                     place, with the right melody on,
which does the job up nice, in the right
                     company, with everything right.

Loves he the way that there are things
                     which words fail to say and music
has to step in and touch the places
                     inside of us untouchable

except by cosmic fingertips.