lazy bones, bound in poverty’s grip
in a garden, where hesitation weeds grow~
filled with s t r a n g l e d d e l i c a c i e s…
a recipe of wisdom, never tasted
couched like a fly in an endless stupor…
abandoned in a ship, lost in the doldrums~
in a dark tunnel, where
echoes slowly f a d i n g
doomed to sail a sinking ship with no lifeboat
yet your arms can still push a boulder uphill~
so put your shoulder to the wheel...
never stop, reach the mountain's peak
sharpen the saw, dig for gold, tame white horses~
while sweat streams down your brow
for once you're interred in a grave
with nothing to illuminate the darkness
mountain of your strength will only enrich the grains of sand...
and fork in the road will give you no direction to choose
you'll just be lost in the maze...
like a deer in a headlight
as confused as a dog watching a magic trick
Mr Clint Eastwood, one top dollar guy
Other film makers just watch him and sigh
With back catalogues they can sit back and rest on
Our Clint has released a brand new neo-western
Cry Macho’s the title, I’ve not seen it yet
But it will be ‘wicked’ on that you can bet
My wife said that cowboy is ninety years old
He won’t stampede horses he won’t dig for gold
I told her I don’t know what it’s all about
But Hollywood know how will figure it out
Maybe he’ll shoot folk and watch them all die
And then tell his nurse he can’t remember why
That one time gunslinger, occasional singer
Gets on screen come ons from each passing humdinger
There’s cheroots and liquor, yet what he wants most
A box of viagra… he might need a gross
I mean no offence to that great fellow, Clint
Who gets propositioned by each passing bint
If my ridicule seems a tad over zealous
Don’t worry, Clint… it’s just that I’m jealous!
Endyminion pay into the galactic bank,
A million credits,
He's got his bottle back,
He's tidied his room of infinity,
And now he knows he's a rich man,
The women come and go,
He's looking for Lisa,
Charity is sparing his enemies life,
So party all night Endyminion,
Because they used to make fun of you,
And when you run you run far,
Silence in court Endyminion,
The people scream,
Egged on by the old hag,
Suffering caused by the invisible angels,
When the autumn leaves fall.
He sees the years preoccupation written on the stem,
Now his friends and relations dig for gold,
Where your heart is still with nature Endyminion,
The bible in the bible,
So you love your mother earth,
Save the perfect World write home to heaven,
Denial of earth's easy love,
Provides a steady stream of tears.
But thinking of the season of unspoken worlds,
Surely home is where the heart is.
I love Africa, my beautiful Africa
I can roam in the bushes
I can run up the mountains
Down the valleys
Across the plains
Or get lost in the forests
Or the caves
I can soak the sun
On the sand at the beach
Or bake in the desert sun
Until I should find an oasis
I can stand on the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro
And if that is too tall
I can try the difficult Mt. Kenya
And touch the floating cloud
I can swim in the ocean or in the lake
Or in the dam or pond or paddle
I can also swim in the Nile or the Congo
Or the Niger or the Zambezi or the Limpopo
Or a thousand other rivers
I can catch kamongo in Lake Victoria
Or the bream on Lake Tanganyika or Malawi
Or bait the tiger fish in Kariba or Cahora Bassa
I can mine diamonds in Congo or Chiadzwa
Dig for gold in Ghana or Tanzania
Or just pick gems and cowry shells wherever I roam
From Cape to Cairo and from Timbuktu to Mombasa
Or just in my dreams.
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