We all seem to be living, but
It’s been a long time since our heart
Was stirred by distant hoot or wail
Of ship or train speeding away.
Some people get out of the rut,
And they go deep but deep, man, but
All this is no more than child’s play -
So let the fry play while they may.

And all around, our chances fly nearby, like bullets -
Stray, spent, belated, blind, some real stunners;
Some took the risk, jumped at a chance - and duly
Reaped the reward: some, coffins, others, honours.

And we just looked aside
And nimbly past them ambled,
And, mindful of the signs,
Took good care not to stumble.

In this fuss and hullabaloo
We’ve long grown used to bending low:
Our torso’s constantly inclined -
To take a bow, to tow the line.
We love to know what’s false, what’s true,
We know, though, what the bright ones do:
They squeeze all meanings between lines
For future use by better minds.

And all around, our chances fly nearby, like bullets -
Stray, spent, belated, blind, some real stunners;
Some took the risk, jumped at a chance - and duly
Reaped the reward: some, coffins, others, honours.

And we just looked aside
And nimbly past them ambled.
And, mindful of the signs,
Took good care not to stumble.

How we would like to rise sky high -
Our thoughts soar high up in the sky -
Eternally up there they reign,
Without a blemish or restraint.
And we, too, longed so much to fly
That yesterday we got quite high:
To ease the bitterness and strain.
We drank again - and drank again...

And all around, our chances fly nearby, like bullets -
Stray, spent, belated, blind, some real stunners;
Some took the risk, jumped at a chance - and duly
Reaped the reward: some, coffins, others, honours.

And we just looked aside
And nimbly past them ambled.
And, mindful of the signs,
Took good care not to stumble.

By horrors shaken to the core
We’d like to batter down the door
Of basements filled with our past’s dead -
Though we may put at risk our head.
And soberly, without furor,
We hit the past all stained with gore -
Our arms, though, are inert as lead,
And weak with unforgotten dread.

And all around, our chances fly nearby, like bullets -
Stray, spent, belated, blind, some real stunners;
Some took the risk, jumped at a chance - and duly
Reaped the reward: some, coffins, others, honours.

And we just looked aside
And nimbly past them ambled.
And, mindful of the signs,
Took good care not to stumble.

A load off our minds feels so nice.
Nice, to bare all before God’s eyes.
To show your empty hand, so they
Can see we aren’t armed for a fray, -
Though, armed or not, one simply dies
When shrapnel flesh at random slice.
But our ironsides decay,
To rust and wormlike spirit prey.

And all around, our chances fly nearby, like bullets -
Stray, spent, belated, blind, some real stunners;
Some took the risk, jumped at a chance - and duly
Reaped the reward: some, coffins, others, honours.

And we just looked aside
And nimbly past them ambled.
And, mindful of the signs,
Took good care not to stumble.