Words and Music By Van
©Copyright Thu Apr 26 00:37:30 MST 2001
It was said once ago it would be wise to
Immediate gratification and we should pass
on the show.
We set our devices aside, and, we
postponed that trip to fortuneland
But, we've watched all our ignorant peers
come and go.
I'm not saying we're mindless, but, the
art shouldn't think
We can calculate craft. It just
demeans and then sinks,
It's a risk we should have taken; though
we thought plans would shield us
From impetuous writings we had to write,
and, then sing.
So, I sit on the fence, with no writings
I may meet my grave insisting the player's
I may be on that fence when I'm 80.
The fence doesn't care.
Harsh thoughts and accurate, honest and
With some conceded indiscretions perhaps,
preceded by thought.
Guess we didn't know then; clearly haven't
learned much by now
Guess we had expected, through this path
we'd be taught.
Is this "fence" a thing that
sits on the left or the right?
Does it want our creative, or logic to
Are there guests on either side of the
Is there anyone there?
We may become such a victim of our past
and our years
And, as each toll-bell birthday punctuates
all such fears.
We are just getting
agéd, and losing our
Now, we're just old, and our peers have no
It has got us, if welcome and we lie and
What was meaningful then, and let those
thoughts just pass bye.
We are relics, indeed, if we concede that
this rusted fence
Won't allow us to sway to a side....