Stumble On
The horse has lost its one good eye;
The clocks have lost their measure.
Two paths emerge from the foot of the axe:
You will walk your path forever.
Wheezing gospels of hollow words
Adorn the fevers of tongues with ears
On the blackened plains where the forked stones spit
Out the arms of your pampered ideas.
So cry or try to fly or flee
Or stumble on in the dust with me
But when you don't I'll stumble on alone.
Words whistle unheard through the jubilee years
And whistle unheard through the fallow.
They will rage and rage for a thousand years,
But none shall ever hear:
As you never heard before.
So cry or try to fly or flee
Or stumble on in the dust with me
But when you don't I'll stumble on alone.
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May tomorrow emerge from a conjurer's hat;
Like a robin may it whistle and pose;
Crows feet cover up every inch of your pretty little
Eyes till they flutter no more.
Then spring will come, yes spring will come,
Spring will come, yes spring will come...
Each day is longer - spring will surely come...
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