Are barring the door,
And the heroes from Ash Land
Are asking for more.
The dust has all settled,
The clouds have blown clear
While the Mothers and Fathers
Hold their babies quite near,
And the Soldier of Fortune
Has spent all his pay
On a Japanese hooker
He bought for the day
Who gave him the goosebumps
And left him part dead
His heart by the bedpost
His brains in the red.
War now looks certain -
The trains run on time,
And the guns on the hill
Have started to chime
Like bells in the abby
That were given a rest
Now that Nietszche killed God
And the choir's not the best,
And Rabbi Jon Stewart
With his nose in a cast
Got the very last laugh
On the Mullah from Bathe
Whose beard once got stuck
In a cupboard for jam
And had to shave cleanly
And gave up Islam.
But the ducks are a-quacking
Looks like spring's in the air,
And the nice girls are crossing
The bells in their hair,
And the nice boys wear Polos
And new crisp blue jeans
Washed by their mothers
Since before they were teens.
Guns are on sale
At the old Five & Dime.
You'll get ten for a quarter
If you've taken the time
To contact your lawyer
And your friend Uncle Ted
Whose strings can't be pulled
Except when he's in bed.
I think it's best to ignore
All this rumor and fear
It will keep you awake
And age you, My Dear.
Though the gray is becoming
When it falls in your eyes,
And those lines are all markers
Of the ways that you've tried.
I advise you to reset,
The day's right for a nap.
Lay your head by my pillow,
Put your feet in my lap,
And I'll sing you a sonnet
Full of summer and rhymes,
As you drift off to sleep
And the morning bells chime.
