by rawclyde!

~

So I’m on my 2nd day of listening to the wind talk

out here in the bush, the cacti, lizard, bird & rock

a rare vehicle moans on the dirt road out yonder

I can’t see it, it can’t see me, out here is where I wonder

~

The message of the Indian is a tearful cry for our sweet Earth

it’s a frustrated message gagged by an ongoing technological birth

in a noisy society that consumes away & thinks God is dead

too late, you’ll learn to pray when the planet ceases to keep you fed

~

But you’ve heard this before, my talk is nothin’ new

the birds talk, the wind talks, ants prob’ly talk too

we’re all talkin’ to nitwit noisy boys just like You

but you’re plugged into TV, that’s quite a campfire you got fuckin’ you

~

Blow it all away, the planet will still be here

it’ll cleanse itself of your rot with one long drowning tear

so another civilization will bite the dust, no big deal

go ahead, make more money, work harder, ride the spinning wheel…

~

from a love song to the american lizard

by rawclyde!

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)