Being a collection of doggerel, verse, stories, politics, historical essays, satire, poetry, jokes, pictures and whatever else I damn well please on a variety of interesting (or otherwise) subjects.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Singer of Strange Songs


Once a young lady of Angelo,
said to me "Sir you're so wise,
where can I find my ego,
and where do we go when we die?"

I said "I'm just a singer of strange songs,
I'm just a dreamer of strange dreams,
I'm just a rhymer of turns of phrase,
ask me a question I know."

I was asked by a young man a year ago
"Where does my duty lie,
where can I go to find peace of mind,
and where do we go when we die?"

I said "I'm just a singer of strange songs,
I'm just a dreamer of strange dreams,
I'm just a rhymer of turns of phrase,
ask me a question I know."

Over the years so many people have come,
asking the meaning of life.
"What of the future, it's all so gray,
and where do we go when we die?"

I say "I'm just a singer of strange songs,
I'm just a dreamer of strange dreams,
I'm just a rhymer of turns of phrase,
ask me a question I know."

I said a prayer just an hour ago,
asking the questions that I've just told,
of truth, and duty, the future, and soul,
and where do we go when we die?

and He said "You're just a singer of strange songs,
you're just a dreamer of strange dreams,
just be a rhymer of turns of phrase,
and stick to the questions you know."

3 comments:

  1. I love you too, sweetie! Thanks

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  2. I'm pretty sure the meaning of life is what you make of it. If you lived in a cask and were fed through a bunghole, life wouldn't have much meaning, now would it?

    ReplyDelete