The Bell and The Birds

A bell that sounds a thousand tones

Will not be clear

And will not be heard

Only one sound will be made

When talking to the birds

A thousand flock around my head

It hurts, Oh, It hurts

So many questions that must be burnt

The fire will remove the dirt

And the birds with burnt wings

Will fly away and

Never be heard.

Create waves that will never break,
Blow winds that will never cease,
Don't hold it in,
Don't hold it back,
A wall too high will appear,
Yet you have the soul to overcome.

One must never doubt those that are not near

One cannot see this but can hear quite clear

Be patient to explain

To listen without strain

Before this ends above the air

Make sure you leave your name and number

With the man downstairs

Inspired by the play 'Blithe Spirit' by Noel Coward

They will always find the truth

Buried amongst the sand.

The grains that cover, fall away

Once the treasured has been claimed

The gold that feasts your eyes

Can bring on the pain

But once the chest has been opened

The sand cannot be blamed

Crawling down to the dust that sits beneath your feet. 

Waking up to the machine song in the evening. 

Breathing in the fume. 

Running on a uphill struggle. 

Only then do you know your life is culture, old and new. 

Only then do you know you're running downhill.

To paradise or the empty room.

Inspired by Philip Slater 'The Pursuit of Loneliness'