tropical mountain evening

 where the birds vanish we don't know
at evening they fly from the day trees
their wings beat through air firm and slow
where the birds vanish we don't know

the fading light is just enough to show
the branches moving in the sultry breeze
where the birds vanish we don't know
at evening they fly from the day trees

awakening

a name that we can recognise
all of our childhood is in place
good luck arrives as single spies
a name that we can recognise

under approval of our eyes
clear light occupies a space
a name that we can recognise
all of our childhood is in place

reformed is this great enterprise
we watch the network interlace
not even the enemy denies
reformed is this great enterprise

the time will come when we arise
and darkness falls from every face
reformed is this great enterprise
we watch the network interlace

somebody may at last surmise
the answer and the way will trace
the victor's name will reach the skies
somebody may at last surmise

the winner may not get the prize
the loser must show proper grace
somebody may at last surmise
the answer and the way will trace

the green banner

the names recall those who survived
a dove arises from the flames
it speaks of love and hope revived

justice is everywhere derived
without indulgence in old games
the names recall those who survived

once many here had grown and thrived
who now are mired within their shames
it speaks of love and hope revived

they have all journeyed and arrived
in concordance with well-known aims
the names recall those who survived

of nothing are they now deprived
but still they have set forth their claims
it speaks of love and hope revived

in pain and joy have they contrived
to fit all things into these frames
the names recall those who survived
it speaks of love and hope revived

obligation

our hands are guided as they move
the keys obey our every whim
we settle into this calm groove
our hands are guided as they move

we've nothing left to test or prove
but still can summon extra vim
our hands are guided as they move
the keys obey our every whim

the honest way

to tell the truth may well seem rude
we are supposed to whine and mutter
when faced by angry multitude
to tell the truth may well seem rude

if you've a proper servile attitude
you'll eat your bread with tasty butter
to tell the truth may well seem rude
we are supposed to whine and mutter

messages sent along the wires
must be received with humble thanks
the sun's been hidden by the fires
messages sent along the wires

our masters one and all are liars
their happiness is in the banks
messages sent along the wires
must be received with humble thanks

the knowledge that all of us seek
is not the kind that shall set free
be servile humble soft and meek
the knowledge that all of us seek

we do our jobs week after week
new rings are added to the tree
the knowledge that all of us seek
is not the kind that shall set free

truth has been told but never heard
our eyes are focused on the past
our sense of duty's quite absurd
truth has been told but never heard

the secret's not in hidden word
the line into the lake's been cast
truth has been told but never heard
our eyes are focused on the past

the signal flag has not been flown
light shines upon the highest tower
the danger has not yet been shown
the signal flag has not been flown

we pass into the great unknown
one by one hour after hour
the signal flag has not been flown
light shines upon the highest tower

determined to achieve our goal
up mountain path we strive to climb
we're fearful of our proper role
determined to achieve our goal

alone we fear we'll be made whole
and have to account for our time
determined to achieve our goal
up mountain path we strive to climb

the sun will burn all things to white
make a clean fire of all our hope
we're all inured to fret and fright
the sun will burn all things to white

we've no idea of truth or right
our feet are set on the high slope
the sun will burn all things to white
make a clean fire of all our hope

all that we see was once well-hid
our vision is of a fine place
to serve and conquer we are bid
all that we see was once well hid

of all delusions we're well-rid
and know the confines of our space
all that we see was once well-hid
our vision is of a fine place

all of our hopes have turned to ash
but hearts are firm and minds are sure
we know the diamond from the trash
all of our hopes have turned to ash

we're worth much more than simple cash
the future's never been more secure
all of our hopes have turned to ash
but hearts are firm and minds are sure

at the flood

at no time do we want to leave
our hearts are full and overflow
the truth is hidden up each sleeve
at no time do we want to leave

there's never any time to grieve
we have no chance to just go slow
at no time do we want to leave
our hearts are full and overflow

tales of a simple folk

there are no monsters on forested hill
lions and leopards don't live in this place
but beings of some superhuman race
seen on the traveller to gorge their fill
or make you subject to their nasty will
they will approach with pleasant open face
like angels or other ministers of grace
and then will throw you right into the swill
the sweet old lady's just another witch
she will beguile you and then eat your soul
your body will lie buried in the mud
the pleasant path will lead right to a ditch
you'll fall right down into the devil's hole
and unnamed horrors will sup on your blood

I am the Stalin of my mind

When I was young I told the truth
just as I saw it, in a fine tale;
that was an error of my youth
and now against it I shall rail.
Now I'm real famous, and my words
carry more weight than once they did,
so I must challenge those bright birds
who will not do just as I bid;
I alone may say just what I mean,
all others must to me give way.
I am the master of this scene,
I'm the sole author of this play.
Now as my glory seems away to fly
I'll try to save it with a blatant lie.