The crew are gone, just he remains. This is indeed a mighty game. All fled but he... Shall he bail next? The others have not stayed to rest. Like in the classic comic sketch: "Here, hold this!" "Take this, please!" "Hold this, balanced on your knees!" Each one hands the straight man more Before leaping out the door Tearing at a long rip cord. Left with all that they discard, he waits around, without regard. Then sighing, looks at that last 'chute. What shall he do? The point is moot. Back to the pilot seat he goes: Another engine starts to glow.
The crew are gone, just he remains. This is indeed a mighty game. All fled but he... Shall he bail next? The others have not stayed to rest. Like in the classic comic sketch: "Here, hold this!" "Take this, please!" "Hold this, balanced on your knees!" Each one hands the straight man more Before leaping out the door Tearing at a long rip cord. Left with all that they discard, he waits around, without regard. Then sighing, looks at that last 'chute. What shall he do? The point is moot. Back to the pilot seat he goes: Another engine starts to glow.
On a wing and a prayer Smoke fills the air Of the heavenly stair Spit and bailing wire Ca'n't hold back the fire... Engines flaming, airframe cracked The pilot shouts out to the back "How goes it crew? Hey, where are you?" Parachutes blossom in the sky The pilot watches as he flies Fighting gravity and time Glad their landings shall be soft He guns the bird, to stay aloft Glances at the rack of 'chutes... One left! He lights a slim cheroot Passengers soon raise a clamour They work with spanner and with hammer In a most ungainly manner.
Deep in darkness Lightning flares The question asked: Who dares? Pain strikes quickly Hearts despair. The question asked: Who cares? We travel slowly On the stair We climb into a dragon's lair To meet a fate both foul and fair The cymbals clash The trumpets blare Into the lightning strike We stare. Waking, sleeping, who can tell? Is this heaven Or some sweet hell? We brace for storm and lightning fell. What will come next We cannot tell.
The day has brought its journey The night has brought us home The darkness soothes the tired eyes Time for to burn a cone. A harbour on the voyage The ship tied up at last. But ready to cast off At the dawning light's first blast! We sail into the labile sea The neon shores glow gleamily We spread the sails of imagery And mindscapes everlastingly And ask: What is liquidity?
So we reach another place Passengers through corridors Which have both time and space We only know the past things done We only hope our wyrd has run. The future is unwritten Until we write it down Choose words wisely if you can For here the future's sown. It seems absurd to write down words Silent words no ear can hear... How can soundless markings Convey the noise of talking?
Although 'tis dawn, it's dark In the midst of crowds I stand Written out of the drama My story rewritten in sand The footprints on the beach Where I helped to bear the load Are washed away come morning Forgotten like a toad Wings do beat in evening sky Flying up to the Sun The tired rabbit turns away Back down into his run The flyers dance so joyfully In lingering light above Catching the shining rays of light Following the Sun Crossing to the other side where other flyers wait The rabbit is back underground, sans comfort and sans mate. He wonders if they think of him, who only did his best But stumbled badly launching A flyer from the nest. Winged creatures are quite heavy A breaking load to bear But rabbits must be left behind To get up into air... Dragons, butterflies, and bees... I wonder if they think of me A rabbit far across the seas.
