No way to slow down,
The ever running machine,
On the rails of gold,
No stopping it this day,
The engine is warm, and the air is cold,
Hear the shrill of her whistle,
The driver is soot faced Mr. Thistle,
Says he's the Man and she's the bride,
He really enjoys the ride,
This machine is his pride,
Chugging is this old beauty,
Over rivers and hills,
Passing through tunnels and windmills,
Children waving their hands with a glee on their face,
This lady still has grace,
Oh! Look, the break of dawn,
The sun rising, but we are gone,
To greet another land,
On this gilded grand,
Lost in time and our memories canned.
Somewhere Life Is A Figment of Imagination
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Saturday, April 22, 2006
So Long
So long, Emily, after long,
Time, just does not belong,
To you or me, we just need to go home,
Garden of life, here we roam,
Life is sitting pretty, in the park bench,
Life is digging a trench,
Life is cool, in the sweltering heat,
Spread-eagled on the ground beneath your feet,
No this ain't a melancholic song,
My bell just goes ding-a-ding-a-dong,
So long, Emily, after long,
Time, just does not belong,
And now, it has been a while,
Is life worthy of reconcile?
Just a pat on the back and a slap on the face,
No, No, na, na, life is not a disgrace,
So long, Emily, after long,
Time, just does not belong,
So, I just sing my song,
Hum a tune and go where I belong…
Time, just does not belong,
To you or me, we just need to go home,
Garden of life, here we roam,
Life is sitting pretty, in the park bench,
Life is digging a trench,
Life is cool, in the sweltering heat,
Spread-eagled on the ground beneath your feet,
No this ain't a melancholic song,
My bell just goes ding-a-ding-a-dong,
So long, Emily, after long,
Time, just does not belong,
And now, it has been a while,
Is life worthy of reconcile?
Just a pat on the back and a slap on the face,
No, No, na, na, life is not a disgrace,
So long, Emily, after long,
Time, just does not belong,
So, I just sing my song,
Hum a tune and go where I belong…
Monday, April 17, 2006
Me, Myself & Ego
From here to there,
Hiding here, and everywhere,
Slipping into itself,
Every minute is the great big self,
Grab on and hold tight,
What works is brawn and only might,
The end of tunnel, but where’s light?
Life, it seems is telling “go fly kite”,
Tired and fatally flawed,
Our ego’s fired, let’s maraud,
The fields of pasqueflowers in the wild,
To unearth the times we whiled,
Demented and surrounded by gadflies,
Just with the one eye, Cyclops cries,
Tears and blood flow too deep,
What you sow is what you reap
Hiding here, and everywhere,
Slipping into itself,
Every minute is the great big self,
Grab on and hold tight,
What works is brawn and only might,
The end of tunnel, but where’s light?
Life, it seems is telling “go fly kite”,
Tired and fatally flawed,
Our ego’s fired, let’s maraud,
The fields of pasqueflowers in the wild,
To unearth the times we whiled,
Demented and surrounded by gadflies,
Just with the one eye, Cyclops cries,
Tears and blood flow too deep,
What you sow is what you reap
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