The Market Economy Got No Soul

O the market economy got no soul

Only sees with the eyes and speaks with the tongues of bought and sold.

Just one view, one way

All boils down to one same, single goal.

Just greed, succeed.

Rides roughshod over every other need.

Can be food around but the people on the dusty ground do not get to feed.

But the market economy pays no heed.

It’s got no other way to proceed.

O the market economy got no soul, no heart.

Tears the living membrane apart.

Well, the birds from the sky and the fish from the sea

And you all from me.

Just growth

Always more and more,

Like some make believe superstore.

‘Til no life in the soil, rivers tastes of oil

Hillsides are silent and raw.

But the market economy does not see.

It’s a juggernaut convoy with no one at the wheel.

O the market economy got no clue,

No mind, no heart no soul.

Ah but people. Yeah, many people still do.

And I see it everywhere and I feel it,

Working to come through.

Call it human gift, or paradigm shift

Or that old evolutionary lift still on the move.

And the knuckled hand all tight in its go get it speed

No other than the hand, reaching through the rubble

Or the hand that reaches out to you-

In your trouble and your need.

You got the market economy

You got humanity

You got the market economy.

Go Gently

Go gently, go gently on yourself sometime.

Don’t leave your poor heart on the Line.

You call yourself failure,

Speak to yourself with that harsh voice inside,

Well your life is always pushing against the tide.

Now this world can be a cold and lonely place sometimes.

For sure, a very troublesome place, I find.

Takes time to learn

The way to turn

Towards yourself a friendly face.

Deal kindly, deal tender by yourself, my friend.

Well you know it comes down to this in the end.

Just the way you walk and talk with you- your own self.

Illuminates or poisons everything you do.

Now this world can be a hard and lonely place sometimes.

For sure, a very difficult place, I find.

Takes time to learn

The way to turn

Towards yourself a friendly face.

Stand gracious, stand honourable within your own skin.

Now where else does anything begin?

Cultivating a kindly inside place- come onside.

Little stone in the water, circles spreading out wide,

Now this world can be such a cold and lonely place.

For sure, a very troublesome place.

Takes time to learn

The way to turn

Towards yourself a friendly face.

Merry go Round

If I were you

And you were me

What do you think that we would see?

If you were me

And I was you

What do you think that we would do?

Ride the merry go round

Ride the merry go round

Let it take you round.

Ride the merry go round

Yeah, ride that carousel

Will just keep on going round.

When the sun goes down

And when the sun comes up.

It’s just a matter of time

But by whose clock?

Ride the merry go round

Let it take you now

Easy as you can

It just goes on round

That old carousel

Now don’t you be afraid.

Well if from above

You should feel some love

Relax let it enfold you.

And you cannot make sense

Of a sequence of events

Just breath the air around you.

Ride the merry go round

Easy ride it round

You just let it take you now.

Take it gently now

Don’t you be afraid

Ride that merry go round.

So if you want to blow

You feel the pressure grow.

Just breath the air around you

Breath the air around you.

Ride the merry go round

Go easy now

So come and take your ride

Ride the merry go round

Ride the merry go round

Ride the merry go round

Num Presumo

Just because you see me standing here like this

Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to spring up

On all fours into the air

Just like a newborn lamb.

Or soaring high

Singing out so clear and free

In the sky that you can’t see me

Only hear me.

So don’t presume, don’t presume etc

Or diving from

The highest cliffs at Acapulco

Down to the ocean bed

To cavort in the green light

With the jewelled eyed ones.

So don’t presume, don’t presume

There could be so much more room

Don’t presume

Be so many different tunes

To dance to.

From my eyrie high in the Rocky Mountains

Over a spot of fresh raccoon

And a nice pot of tea

I can clearly see

Yes, it’s very plain to me

That it’s better not to

Haven’t got to…..

So don’t presume, don’t presume etc

Hot Stone Pathways

Let the sound of the birds come get you

Sunlight creeping through your window

Tempting, teasing you from your covers

Calling you outside.

You’re alive as the hot sun hits you

Senses jumping, senses waking

Feel a tingly skin sensation

Making you alive.

Day moves on and the heat is rising

Soaring, scorching, burning, frying.

Bare feet jumping on hot stone pathways

Warming through your soul.

Time is still now, the air is heavy

Smells are sweet and senses lazy

Grainy light as the sunlight falters

Drawing to a close.

O sunlight creeping through your window

And it’s tempting and it’s teasing

It’s calling you outside

And you’re alive as the hot sun hits you

Sends a tingling through your skin

Right down, right down to your bones.

Trees in the Fog

The gateposts are gone,

Those dear ones, good –hearted and complex

Departed alone.

And beyond the streetlights

The outlands roll boundlessly on.

The old sky has fallen down

And luminous blind clouds hit the ground.

And I find myself

Feeling for trees in the fog.

The markers all gone

The known becomes unknown

And no place on earth feels like home.

Those tunnels of longing

Draw on in almost unheard song

From without me and within

Of people and creatures and things

And I find myself

Feeling for trees in the fog.

(Feeling my way) step by step

(Feeling my way) hand over hand

No way the masters,

Yet so much more than just cogs

Feeling for trees

Feeling for trees in the fog

Vapeur de Soupe

Je m’assoie a ma table habituelle,

Et je me demande cela que veux tu dire.

Et mes pensées semblent

Comme la vapeur de ma soupe.

Ou les corps flottants sur mes yeux.

Bientôt je me prends mes vacances annuelles.

Et devenir automne

Je m’assoie a ma table habituelle,

I sit at my usual table

And I wonder what does it all mean.

And my thoughts seem like the steam on soup

Or the floaters on my eyes.

Soon I will take my annual holiday,

And come autumn

I sit at my usual table.