Draft 1

Purpose and meaning,
These things seem to go
All it comes down to
You know what you know.

You know what you know
You see how this works
You are who you are
Despite oddity quirks

All the days pass,
Things seem not to last
Off to space blast
Be not an outcast.

You can tell what you tell
And you tell it well
Without rhyme or reason
Develop the season.

But I likes a lot of seasoning in me soup.
Speak out, remain not silent
For OUR SOUP IS COLD
Babbling like the noodles
That we are all made of.

Click clack with your body
Slap ice cold water
Onto your neck in de morning
Yes in de morning

De deep cleaning is what we shall do to your soul
You soul needs deep cleaning
And we shall
Clean your soul
But first, enrich your mind

Leave not your senses behind
Let music and rhythm flow
But speak out through them
Most of all, and go

Follow the path
Render your state unto being
Into your state of being
Be. But not only Be.
Be good.

Good vs. Evil
Now we shall speak on
The good verses evil
Whereupon?

Or shall we ask wherefore?
No, we shall ask whereupon
It sounds so much more distinguished.
And my marshmallows melt into
Hot cocoa.

LIVE! LOVE! BE!
(quickly) Be good.

Piano sounds play in living room
Living room is a room to live
Let music fill you living room

Where you live.
Are you living?
Is this a room?
Then this is a living room.
It only gets confusing when you go outside.

Evil is the opposite of good.
I know not evil.
But I do know good.
And I know the lack of good.
And I know the opposite of good.
Mom’s cookies are good.
Chopin is good, writing is good.

Good mood? Bad mood?
What is the opposite of good?
Bad? Or Evil?
Bad and evil is the same,
Yet different.

I ate bad cheese.
But it wasn’t evil cheese
The cow from which the cheese came
Had a good heart.
She mooed contentedly
In the fields where she lived
The fields that are her living room.

What?

Can you not tell me that the organist
Stopped playing?
The choir softly sing
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue
For the court of their beloved king.

Falling
Falling
Falling.
Ski slopes where I met his evil twin.
Him, who is he? That with dark hair
Who lives miles and miles away
I don’t know him well at all
But I met him in a dream.
We skied together
And skiing in the sky…
His brother, his evil twin
Smote us both upon the snow
For it wasn’t snowy
It was July
And the hills were green
Imaging skiing on green slopes?
His twin was evil.
The evil was bad
And we skied up to that cow.
Who mooed and ran.
And she made bad cheese no more.

And what do you say to that?
What do you want?

I know what you want.

CHEERIOS crunch crunchcrunch.
And my father put a box on his head.
Relive the tragic comedy.

“thripplewhip” he said to me
“bee-stinger” I retort
And we continued to offend one another.
Until at last I resorted to
Plotting against him
We shall throw paint ballons
At his white house.
And so we stole from the town
To the country
To the place where he lived
Cows mooing contentedly in the fields

Trim my hair.
Trim it off.
What if I sneeze
What if I cough.

Ahem.
Ahem?
A..hemmed up robe to sing in
For applesauce like cranberries
Stewed as rhubarb, used to be prunes?

“I’ve got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head with it.”