we make a rickety circle
and the beat takes us all,
bend forward, clap our
hands, sway this way, that,

a bow of arms,
twirl of legs, form
wings, furl, unfurl,
the body confined

in a twist of finality,
the world on a
swirl-round axis
and we curl to

where the planet
began its primal
dance, of scent,
step, musk, air...

walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, who is that man?
You try so hard
But you dont understand
Just what youll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, is this where it is?
And somebody points to you and says
Its his
And you say, whats mine?
And somebody else says, where what is?
And you say, oh my god
Am I here all alone?

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, how does it feel
To be such a freak?
And you say, impossible
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

Youve been with the professors
And theyve all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
Youve been through all of
F. scott fitzgeralds books
Youre very well read
Its well known

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Now you see this one-eyed ******
Shouting the word now
And you say, for what reason?
And he says, how?
And you say, what does this mean?
And he screams back, youre a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you dont know what it is
Do you, mister jones?

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

What have you brought into my heart?
I am just left with nothing but drought
What all have you taken away from me
For now I see the empty me without any tree

In the Ambit of the trifles
All I am stuck with is the bullets of your rifles
The life that I have dreamt with grace
Is now forgotten with no single trace

Etched in the euphoria of your joy
I am neither able to break out free nor cry
Sulking I am with no season
What more have you got to reason

All I gave is love and made you live
Think oh man, Think, but not so naïve
Now I plead, please come out of your greed
Make me home, make me green

Let that cheeky feeling slip its way out
And see the light in you
For you never say a no
And you never let it go

Add a joule,run a mile
And you know,you are up with it
For now you have, that fire in you
Way to go, though not far
Till that goal of you is met

Scream out aloud,let that out
Chill and cheer,simply as you are
Now that the way's so clear and so near
Oh my dear, dont you fear

If I were a man, I'd be free,
To ask a woman out for coffee.
But I'm a woman, I have to play coy,
And let the fieldwork be done by the boy.

I have to wait for him to make a move,
And only show that I approve.
I have to bat my lashes and display a pout,
And behave like a human sized trout.

When he leans for a kiss, I'll have to push him away,
And blushingly say "not today"
As a woman, society wants me to behave in a way,
To be demure, dignified and flirt in a womanly way.

But you know what, let society go for a toss,
This woman here, is her own boss,
I'm going to be direct and forward,
And if that scares you, move along coward.

I’m not going to sit around and wait,
I'll be the one who'll ask you for a date,
I know I know, guys love the chase,
But hey, I'm not a car, this is not a race!

God knows when you'll overcome your cold feet,
So I'll be direct and very indiscreet,
So if you like me, and I get the hunch,
I’ll ask you out to dinner or lunch.

I have no time to waste in decoding your hints,
Deciphering your mind, your glances and squints,
I'm not Robert Langdon, this is not a Dan brown book,
So when you give me that interested look,
I'm not going to ponder and over analyse,
The mystery behind the movement in your eyes.

And if you happen to reject me and say no,
I promise to take it in my stride,
Because I don't involve my ego,
And let indecisive men hurt my pride,
I am free spirited and emancipated,
And do not particularly care if that makes you feel emasculated.