Before time’s tether came undone,
Where once we touched the skies.
Amongst the chaeos of a winter’s night,
The clouds have waved goodbye.
In the constellation of the Eel,
We are set adrift on stormy seas,
The gales of Jupiter feel so real
More important dust to breathe.
And now we keep the sharks at bay,
Tussling with them and their fearsome run.
And even though we laugh and play,
We see their bones dry in the sun.
We long for the magic of the trees,
And pray for hope to make us whole,
To hear bird’s song and love the bees.
More important dust we know.
The planets plan cosmic romance,
Men’s maps mean nothing new.
They shuffle round a solar dance,
And stick with us like glue.
Why we wish our solace from above?
The stars would never care.
The tides do ebb and flow enough,
More important dust elsewhere.