I often sit on the moon,
one, real as any afternoon,
a place, away from here,
in my beloved atmosphere

views come soon after,
some vague and quick,
some remind me...
corners of painting, yes that is it!
where nothing happens, it's like,
silent waiting, for one warm waving

but when sun hides behind my moon,
and shadow of my palm covers the earth,
there's days I wave the sign of peace,
flip the bird at ease, then are the days,
it's all just old rock n' roll ways