In the darkness of the night
Only occasionally relieved by glimpses of Nirvana
As seen through other people’s windows
Wallowing in a morass of self-despair
Made only more painful by the knowledge
That all I am is of my own making
When everything around me, even the kitchen ceiling
Has collapsed and crumbled without warning
And I am left, standing alive and well
Looking up and wondering why and wherefore
At a time like this, which exists maybe only for me
But is nonetheless real, if I can communicate
And in the telling and the bearing of my soul
Anything is gained, even though the words
Which I use are pretentious and make you cringe
With embarrassment, let me remind you of the pilgrim
Who asked for an audience with the Dalai Lama
He was told he must first spend five years in contemplation
After the five years
He was ushered into the Dalai Lama’s presence, who said
'Well, my son, what do you wish to know?'
So the pilgrim said
'I wish to know the meaning of life, father.'
And the Dalai Lama smiled and said
'Well my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn’t it?'
Held close by that which some despise
Which some call fake, and others lies
And somewhat small
For one so tall
A doubting Thomas who would be?
It’s written plain for all to see
For one who I am with no more
It’s hard at times, it’s awful raw
They say that Jesus
Healed the sick and helped the poor
And those unsure
Believed his eyes
A strange disguise
Still write it down and wipe it red
Nothing’s better left unsaid
Only sometimes, still no doubt
It’s hard to see, it all works out
'Twas tea-time at the circus
King Jimi, he was there
Through hoops he skipped
High wires he tripped
And all the while the glare
Of the aching
Baking spotlight beat down upon his cloak
And though the crowd clapped furiously
They could not see the joke
'Twas tea-time at the circus
Though some might not agree
As jugglers danced
And horses pranced and clowns clowned endlessly
But trunk to tail the elephants quite silent, never spoke
And though the crowd clapped desperately
They could not see the joke
Yeah! Good one!
In the autumn of my madness
When my hair is turning grey
For the milk has finally curdled
And I’ve nothing left to say
When all my thoughts are spoken
Save my last departing birds
Bring all my friends unto me
And I’ll strangle them with words
In the autumn of my madness
Which in coming won’t be long
For the nights are now much darker
And the daylight’s not so strong
And the things which I believed in
Are no longer quite enough
For the knowing is much harder
And the going’s getting rough
I know if I’d been wiser
This would never have occurred
But I wallowed in my blindness
So it’s plain that I deserve
For the sin of self-indulgence
When the truth was writ quite clear
I must spend my life amongst the dead
Who spend their lives in fear
Of a death that they’re not sure of
Of a life they can’t control
It’s all so simple really
If you just look to your soul
Some say that I’m a wise man
Some think that I’m a fool
It doesn’t matter either way
I’ll be a wise man’s fool
For the lesson lies in learning
And by teaching I’ll be taught
For there’s nothing hidden anywhere
It’s all there to be sought
And so if you know anything
Look closely at the time
At others who remain untrue
And don’t commit that crime
It’s all so simple really
If you just look to your soul
Instrumental