You’re some kinda’ Joe Sitting here; you think you know Listen up, Buster It’s time that you muster The strength to take the heat It’s a life you have to meet Going for the glory of the Cinderella story Is not my cup of gold To be haggled, bought and sold I will listen to what I’m told Do the will as I grow old
Have I finished the rhymes? as I’ve run out of lines on the little book of paper. Flip over the page Keep still for the Sage and on and on it goes Jamming sometimes as it flows A river of words projects from the Lake of Letters A quiver of birds Protects for the sake of Their feathers “Whatever’ is the key Striving to ‘Let it Be’.
Primordial Word Stew Calls to You
You’re some kinda’ Joe Sitting here; you think you know Listen up, Buster It’s time that you muster The strength to take the heat It’s a life you have to meet Going for the glory of the Cinderella story Is not my cup of gold To be haggled, bought and sold I will listen to what I’m told Do the will as I grow old
Have I finished the rhymes? as I’ve run out of lines on the little book of paper. Flip over the page Keep still for the Sage and on and on it goes Jamming sometimes as it flows A river of words projects from the Lake of Letters A quiver of birds Protects for the sake of Their feathers “Whatever’ is the key Striving to ‘Let it Be’.
Primordial Word Stew Calls to You