(Al Kooper)
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Father of my morning,
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Once my child to the night
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I see that you have minds to cop
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And I can only watch the sickened sorrow
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Little do you know
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of the progressions that you teach
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the people that you reach are tired
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of livin' in a world of elastic towers
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dance with them and sing a song of changes
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and talk with them of life and all its dangers
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surround yourself with now familiar strangers
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who kiss and who hug and eventually mug you of your time
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And the clock on the wall is a bore
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as you wander past the door
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and find him lying on the floor
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as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile
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You cannot ever picture me
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you know me by my thoughts
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A file for your travelogue
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oblivious to the night, the fog around you
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The germs they are ridiculous
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they bother you at night
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the blood that rushes to your brain
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the ticket on the plane you're never catching
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the price you pay exclusive of your taxes
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to chop you up inside with tiny axes
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the girl looks up to you from floors she waxes
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and speaks to your belt with tears among her eyes
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and the clock on the wall is a bore
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as you wander past the door
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and find him lying on the floor
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as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile
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The metaphysic wrinkles in the face of what you face
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Are hidden by the fake-up man
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who lives inside the sterno can beside you
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Now climb ye to the mountains
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as the sun is almost gone
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escaping from your other selves
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your brothers hide among the shelves inside you
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the games that people play can only bore you
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but only those that know you don't ignore you
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how many times have I come there to restore you
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And caught you lying on the couch with father time
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and the clock on the wall is a bore
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as you wander past the door
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and find him lying on the floor
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as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile
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-----------------
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The Modern Adventures of Plato, Diogenes, and Freud
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| Blood, Sweat & Tears |
