Undertow
The Great Escape - The Birds - Charade - The Fugitive, The Twilight Zone
It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World-
Civil rights, Viet Nam
The Beatles begged to hold my hand
The day was young and so was I
My eyes were focused inward, never far my own home
In the tides where I swam, the shoreline seemed far from my door
The morning broke, and all was well. Just me alone with Jack LaLane,
A new routine to start the day. The seas were calm within the room
I was swimming on the floor, lifting legs, breathing hard
until…..until…..until
Abruptly, as the static rose, Jack soon transformed into fuzzy snow
An anchored voice would pull me down, as if a wave was drowning me
Cronkite appeared with solemn eyes, he cleared his throat, and took a breath
I searched within his trademark psalm to calm the storm that whirled around
But none was found. As he kept control, he let the wounded words unfold
I begged for him to change the tide, but magnitude too great to own
The undertow was understood.
The day was bright, with amber light. Leaves drifted down as they must do
Football games, a dance that night. Holidays had been conceived
But life and death were thick as thieves, giving lungs no time to breathe
No hit parades, no silver screen, charades, escapes or Hitchcock tales.
An unrelenting undertow had swept the ground beneath my feet
I remember how the day was born, intended for a different end
Ringo, George, Paul and John .. was there someone there to hold my hand?
No great escape. I had to drown. It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
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