Birds, Babies and Blizzards

 

Yes, folks, I am among those who went to the

trouble of learning to perform, and nearly

replaced my music with a pile of fridge-

leftover science projects. All I can say is,

don't forget to listen to birds, babies and

blizzards sometimes.

All of this started with beating our

breasts, bellowing our battle-cries, bashing

boulders with branches, breathing, breeding,

bleeding, brooding but believing the best

days' before us, being bad, bulging our

biceps, building bridges and bombs, buying

bonds to bind ourselves budgeting,

oh yeah, and buying the booze and belaboring

the blues.

Now we're all nerds with bad nerves, berated

needs, big-pig signature when the bills

mature, and we reassure when we can't be

sure, 'cause our cares are pure, but our

wares and our dares manure the meanings of

melodies, mangle our memories, march us to

marketing meetings, parking-lot greetings for

the main proceedings, while our folks feed

us, should us, then need us, but hood us, try

to get-out-of-the-wood us, but why would us?

Good us! Grace us!

They almost erased us!

Now they don't trust us so they trace us,

Till they bust us and replace us,

Then they case us and disgrace us.

I never sought to glad you till I've had you,

Then bad you, laugh at sad you,

murder mad you,

Or just trad you and glad you some more

Till you snore

And ignore the score I won't restore.

We've been through this before.

More leads to war.

All this to say our spirits soar.