My life is just a bunch of coincidences
Are they stacked or piled?
Once it happened
That my will happened
To coincide with what was happening
All around
That was a happy moment
Every time, I’m looking around
I just see lots of forms in metamorphoses
Each transforming into the other
Every now and then
There sure are some strange patterns.
But, Mama, does that even matter?
Yer, ol daddy’s long gone.
Look out! Birds of prey are circling!
That’s sure a pattern in deed.
But you and I, ma, must keep on smirking.
Hearken! There’s a cry in the air.
Beware! Beware!
Oh, this garden is rotten, I tell you!
Everything is turning to dust!
I have forgotten something but I can’t remember what
All the hens are doing when the rooster is on the other side of the fence
They got no defense, I say.
What are we going to plant in this garden, where nothing grows?
Not just the garden but all the seeds and corn are surely rotten.
So what are the hens pecking on? I wonder…
There must be some sort of pecking order.
But is there any order at all?
I’m looking for the intelligent designer
But he's gone for lunch.
So who is operating the controller function?
The intelligent designer was struck with amnesia, I heard
So he forgot to be where he ought to be.
And I, alone, am standing in the garden
Among all the hens
Without defense
And the wolf took the rooster
At the other side of the fence
Thus the clock can’t strike anymore
Without it’s cock.
So what to do with this seed, I wonder.
The eggs are rotten too.
There’s been no rain for long
So how come the earth is so sick with water?
There is someone a-knocking somewhere
I think I’ve better sleep
And wait for the intelligent designer to be back
I think I’m carrying his memory on my shoulders.
But he’s got to have the thought that I lost.
It’s a thought for a thought
And an eye for an eye
That’s the law around here
But there is no order
But the pecking order.
So I’m going down.
Better stay waiting.
There is already mold growing on my feet.
The feet are covered.
This is my defeat.
I feel quite dazzled.
I think the sun must have come.
But there ain’t no lights inside my head.
I gave away my inner eye the other day
For another eye, but it never arrived.
Better fathom the darkness
And let it fathom my mind.
Everything is going by.
So good bye.
I won’t ask why.
Good bye.