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Michael Caufield: Music


(Michael Caufield)

It used to be easy it used to be fun

Chasing a ball beneath the golden sun

Those were the days of the innocent real

Before the world could structure the way you feel

Following rules is a snap -- it’s easy to trace

Your way across the map when forced to race

Along the giddyup trail made dizzy by all those swishing tails

So what if your saddle slips off – workhorses rarely get lost

Ride bareback until you can see the carrot again

You learn your ABC’s and you mind your P’s and Q’s

But by the time you see how money rules you can only feel a fool

I didn’t say this but I might’ve said that

What difference does it make if there’s no more white and black

Crooners need not apply

The battle has already started – we need archers we need axemen

We need someone who could take a sword and if not the dragon’s at least take off a few of the liar’s heads

So what if it’s not Camelot – a farm is a grand enough spot

To work until sunset and drink down a pint of cold beer

Trapped like a slave whipped by men with small minds

Academia is not the place for anyone in search of the divine

I know you only stayed because there was no place to go

For a man who believed in Emerson and Thoreau

"Pantheism is as pantheism does," a spent idol once remarked

After hearing an alert waitress ask,

"Would you like some jam to make those buckwheat pancakes taste less bland?"

Everything always works out regardless of all man-made doubt

Whatever the outcome

Everything always works out

It has to . . .