or at least the contemplation
of a sequencing of movements
and the consequences of a
And I know sometimes you feel
you are dying like a porpoise
In a meadow in the summer
And your skin begins to blister
And all the farmer's wife can do
is stare at you and wonder
rock and roll is dead and in its grace
But you said, what about the baby
being threatened by a viper
S -O -S -I -N -E -C -O -L
Na na na na na na namaste
And then someone comes along
and says that Pluto is not a planet
without knowing why he's crying
But I know there are rivers flowing way
beneath the surface, yeah
And phantom shapes of meaning
beyond all understanding, yeah, yeah
rock and roll is dead and in its grave
But you said what about the baby
being threatened by a viper
in a slum in old Calcutta
S .O .S. San Nicolo, May Day
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na,
The foxes are not restless,
no, they are sleeping in their dens
And the swordfish dream of oceans
rising up over the mountains
ah, finally it's happening
Or everything is happening again,
And contemplate not one thing more
than tiny changes in the wind
like a sparrow in the morning
and still love the morning
like a sparrow loves the morning.
rock and roll is dead and in its grace.
about the baby being threatened by a viper
who slipped in a window in
a slum in North Calcutta?
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, Namaste
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, Namaste
4.9
