the job that's to be done is clear
all of the mind is set upon the point
it's not a matter of doubt or dare
the job that's to be done is clear
there's freshness carried on the air
the times we feel aren't out of joint
the job that's to be done is clear
all of the mind is set upon the point
a rule that's not enforced is not a rule
just paperwork that aims to please the eye
we've wasted all the time we were in school
a rule that's not enforced is not a rule
the one who thinks the law is good's a fool
you soon find out that every writ's a lie
a rule that's not enforced is not a rule
just paperwork that aims to please the eye
after the rain there's richer fuller green
the forest seems a calm and gentle wall
none of the trees a solitary queen
after the rain there's richer fuller green
we understand the magic that we've seen
in the grey water's soft and steady fall
after the rain there's richer fuller green
the forest seems a calm and gentle wall
the painter drew the lineaments of power
the monarch sitting calmly on his throne
seeing no thing that was not his own
yet we don't see the masses hide and cower
a king in place is something that is known
the painter drew the lineaments of power
all that now seems a long-forgotten hour
we vaguely understand what we are shown
that noble face is now forgotten bone
the painter drew the lineaments of power
the map's a magic scroll that offers much
the places and their names all will seduce
we don't always believe it could be such
the map's a magic scroll that offers much
we know that everything's within our touch
and from that many facts we can adduce
the map's a magic scroll that offers much
the places and their names all will seduce
words should taste sweet upon the tongue
there's magic as they fall upon the ear
when sense has from the sound been wrung
the power does not reside within the lung
nor does it end when one is on the bier
words should taste sweet upon the tongue
the world's a better place for being sung
the furthest places are made to come near
when sense has from the sound been wrung
the bell's the better once it has been rung
the world once spoken will become more dear
words should taste sweet upon the tongue
the bag of winds has been tied up and slung
back in the cave together with the seer
when sense has from the sound been wrung
upon the tree the wise one long has hung
he'd rather go and laugh into his beer
words should taste sweet upon the tongue
when sense has from the sound been wrung
i look at many words and i just sigh
i cannot force the meaning or the sense
there's nothing to be gained by getting by
i look at many words and i just sigh
we know that what we know is not a lie
but we have lost to mimic and pretence
i look at many words and i just sigh
i cannot force the meaning or the sense
the shadow is as needed as the light
sleep and the dark are not adjunct to day
the wilderness always requires a way
the shadow is as needed as the light
the rain's required to rejoice in the sun
each stillness is an echo of the run
the shadow is as needed as the light
we need the rain in order to have green
a time of grey so nature's better seen
the shadow is as needed as the light
true balance only sets the world aright
the hours of dark and damp are not a cost
time spent in waiting is never time lost
the shadow is as needed as the light
