I make my bed on cold hard ground
I raise up long before first rays of dawn
It's a life I choose
I am not bound
I feel it's my way
of being sound

When I keep
my mouth zippered down
I find that my words
not going round
Causing pain on both
ends of stick
And my wounds I
don't have to lick

When upon the woods
I rail
All alone like ship on sail
I find life full of mystery
As truths are revealed to me
Give me time that's unadorned
Oak and acorn  
pine cone woods so thick
Until God blows
out my wick