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Ages have gone by since they last visit the sky
The table has turned and they are traveling with
 The clouds to the next end of the world to
open a museum for thee, where art is free
This is one of a kind where the sculpture
dug up from the ancient apple root is sold
For ten million pounds in an action held in the town

It is the skeleton head of a peasant that was
beaten to death at the emperor’s request.
It was just like yesterday when the moon
shines beyond the hill and the shadow stood still 
to pay tribute to the peasant whose head was found
at the apple root at the foot of the hill.
	
Who is standing on the cliff looking at the village below?
A village straining underneath its weight was once the
talk of the town when money was running all-around
the oligarch of the ages used to prey on women’s flesh 
with rancid breath and yellow teeth and vodka flowing
in the street.

 The voices of drunken men wobbling around
 emerging from the brothel  after mid-night
screaming and cursing about the price of whisky
 with a devilish look in their eyes.

Who is walking in the street and beating drums? 
and disrupting the tranquil heavens above, 
loosen the horse for me and let it roam free
give it some water to drink and let it graze
and get some fresh air.

Fetch me a clean vessel 
and fill it with water from the sea
and repeat that special verse
You memorize when the rock
fell from the mountain into the sea

They climb to the top of the mountain
With all the energy they have got
They were determined to complete
an old dream but two roads diverge in the
middle of the stream so they stood on the
Mountain top watching the people coming and going
And the ages slowly drift by and they finally made
It to the other end of the sky

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