How soon our earthly time
Is over; how speedily the
Unyielding years advance;
Despite our pleas and prayers.
For we are all King Canute.
The magical mystery tour bus
Criss-crosses country lanes;
Before careering off the cliff
Of lost hopes, and plummeting into
The minefield of psychedelic destruction;
A dream tapestry gone haywire.
How quickly the world forgets;
Or did it ever really know us?
Just another life of little note,
Traversing the well-worn paths
Of countless other nobodies
Until the broom of time brushes
Away the remains of our yesterdays.
