Mud of Woodstock
The Mud of Woodstock… Three long score have I stumbled forward in vain Weighed down by indifference and mediocrity Adrift in the glare of self pity and inactivity A mechanical being devoid of sympathy Squinting in the bright light of drudgery and gain Pushing forward to avoid the task masters disdain Adjusting here some grease there no big deal Powering the load like some cog in the wheel With rounded teeth chipped from the strain A precision component with a heart of steel No room for tears no room to feel Wakened from this nightmare I put the paradigm to rest Twisting this reality inside out I try my best To return to the living and Love before it is too late And smile again and try to relate Only to realize the mud of Woodstock still squishes between my toes. Christopher Cole www.thecloserssong.com Written November 25th, 2001 © on Nov 25 2001 06:18 AM PST 0 • 12
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"The Mud of Woodstock…..."