The Year ManCouldn't tell a good man from a bad manmy fingers reaching out into the dark stretching out into a world abound and caving into my heart Riding on the tide into creation counting my memories in vain forming sighs that never will be heard the answers are all the same Now hear me true hear the better word the wings have been cast fly away on the sound that the year man found and tossed it right away Pull the trigger staple all your memories cast your shadows know where they might fall have your lucky moments in the vastness and bring them home upon the shadow's call Cradle in the sand catch the falling stars never pay for any of the old forgotten lies men have fallen we are not the innocent protectors of the skies Come to think I'm better than the dead man come to think he's dead and I'm his unexpected friend nowhere near the open grave but immanently under his command Peter Selinger, March 1996 |