They have split the adam ant atom again,
The voices they whisper to my cockleshell ear.
In a couple of moments we will go live,
To see the moon in the rear.
A cocktail quiescent scintillation of constellations gather,
Pools of flashes and twinkles in the sky,
When the music of the band changes,
I get that look in my eyes, And run to nowhere in fear.
Surreal in a dream, seems that reality
pools at the tip of a leaf,
Complexity in its veins channel the water teaming with life,
To the tip of all anguish and grief.
There it is suspended – dangling in the wind,
And someone bumps it ajar.
That calico cat of a man with a scar,
Comes from the dark side of the moon.
I will meet you there, up in the sky,
When the choirs of angels die.
And I Lucifer of society shall rise,
And be the new god of the skies.
The cats in the cradle, and the silver spoon,
The little boy blue and the man in the moon,
When will I see you,
I don’t know when,
We will get together then.