I'm asking you for some news
From the foreign front
Give me the cues that I may use
To decide what I really want
I cannot tell, if this living hell
Is sound or fury or noise
But warning bells, begin their knell
Like psychological joys
When all is drifting down the river
And salmon are leaping free
And carp play harps, in musical
Tarps of mysterious melody
And trout make noise of gurgling boys
And fields of ripe corn
A million miles from where I am
And where I once was born
I run the gauntlet of this life
Up the torrid stream
And every footstep that falls
Is another vaunted dream
But if you call me Noah
Or if call me steam
I will flood you
With a rainbow
Of my vaulted beam
All the rocks are cold
All the trees are dripping
Sometimes the wild seems so bold
While I can feel less gripping
And the battle that must be fought
Is one against ourselves
But whether it needs fighting
Is a decision made by elves
They are voices calling
Take it easy
Go to sleep
And I am willing to oblige them
As I crawl out of the deep
