1. CROWN OF CREATION



You are the crown of creation.
You are the crown of creation,
And you've got no place to go.

Soon you'll attain the stability you strive for,
In the only way that it's granted:
In a place among the fossils of our time.

In loyalty to their kind
They cannot tolerate our minds.
In loyalty to our kind
We cannot tolerate their obstruction!

Life is change.
How it differs from the rocks.
I've seen their ways too often for my liking.
New worlds to gain.
My life is to survive and be alive
For you.






2. LATHER




Lather was thirty years old today,
They took away all of his toys.
His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,
About his old friends who'd stopped being boys.
There was Harwitz E. Green, just turned thirty-three,
His leather chair waits at the bank.
And Seargent Dow Jones, twenty-seven years old,
Commanding his very own tank.

But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do,
To lie about nude in the sand,
Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps,
And thrashing the air with his hands.

But wait, oh Lather's productive you know,
He produces the finest of sound,
Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose,
Snorting the best licks in town,
But that's all over...

Lather was thirty years old today,
And Lather came foam from his tongue.
He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said,
Is it true that I'm no longer young?
And the children call him famous,
what the old men call insane,
And sometimes he's so nameless,
That he hardly knows which game to play...

Which words to say...
And I should have told him, "No, you're not old."
And I should have let him go on...smiling...babywide.