fountain
I was in a dream
I was in some court
was accused of what I didn't know
sure felt guilty
in their powdered wigs with their funny robes
there was:
the arch-bishop, the dalai lama and the queen of the singers guild
the queen said:
„why do you chew so high
on the sour cream I'm feeding?
if you aim for milk and honey babe
the way to get there is by cheating only“
the bishop shouted :
„I do agree!“
and pointed his long thin finger at me
„if she were honest and modest,“
he said with a frown,
„she wouldn't turn all offers down.“
how - could she not take her chances
how - could she disbelieve
why - is her heart filled with thunder
when its all in her pockets,
all in her hands
how - could she lock herself away
how - dare she be so afraid
why - deny all her talents when the world is in need
the dalai smiled in his unique way
softly nodded his head,
„I call a witness“, he said,
„call in the witness!“
„may we turn down the lights and hear what this
stranger's got to say?!“
„bonjour, mesdames et messieurs“,
the creature in black made a perfect bow
„moi, je suis papillon de nuit
a moth as it is called in english.
moi, I ask the judges to drop the case,
to withdraw the charge, to stop the chase.
for I lived in her bedroom for a greater while
and by night I swear
I repeatingly heard
this woman as she sang in her sleep.“
Let me be a fountain
on a desert ground
but make sure
some of that love falls back on me
let me be a mountain
under a psycadelic coloured sky
as the sun is setting down,
let me be the bell that rings
and rings and rings and rings
make sure some of that love falls back on me
I was in a dream it was in New York. . . .