The green fields One favorite ghaut Where I once Roamed, romped and played The banks The trees The shades and rocks where I once Read, laid and sunbathed All the spots that fascinated me Filled my heart with fear and mystery Places a kid would stand and wonder why A feeling strong Something here just beyond the visible eye What could this be? On bended knee The cream and powder white dirt Sifting this peculiar patch of earth Friends with whom I'd laugh and jive Some long dead Some still alive Holes I can recall Holes I didn't remember at all Entrances and exits Covered now Lost sheep Even one lost cow The entire mountain was my toy They'd watch and wait for that Redheaded, barebacked shepherd boy The schoolyard was my playpen The first time I “realized” Way, way back then The rabbit trick Of cowitch Nights Unusual nights High tones and colored lights Not a soul understood my unseen stats Or gave a second look to those white cats Tops and marbles Spin and shoot The foothills of my misspent youth Come flowing back to a sleeping memory A long lost stream of Dreams In crystal clarity Subtle hints within the pictured storybook I can read between with just a look Shades and halves of humanity Mortality One string of destiny A tremendous sense of family And my spirit yearns for The Chance to return Back to the past Back to my future Can I, should I tell it no? The good times Montserratian times Old times The source of my present verse Is it a blessing or a curse? My spirit wants to go Back to the future Should I now tell them no? It's far more complicated than it should I had a plan simple and good I have so many Love them all But… These three have got me against a wall It's easy to admit Yeah, There is a price How do you make that one choice? Take that boat and you'll satisfy a few And hurt many who still loves' you You can't run Away… It has to be done I've got to be strong No room for error No space for wrong I can feel her, feel them here Nothing you can see or touch But it does so much Means so much To us The border that separates Fairy From reality It's much more blurred for me Than it is for Joe Nobody The green hills The silvery walls The blood-red skies It's home that calls Many ties One house Many steps The heights and depths As I stand at the crossroads On the cusp of… A surreal clash of swords In pictures and sounds Songs and rhymes A bombardment Of Olden Times Olden Times © 2003 Ahkenaton all rights reserved |