Zones
White sails in the rain
Smoked in cones skin and bones Battles never won Careless called collateral Someone on the drum.
Lead me into latitudes Lull my brain awhile Run along with rabid wolves Call me an oenophile.
Drinking drips of Mountain dew Sipping cool champagne Careless in the cockpit White sails in the rain.
In the zone on the phone Nasty nightly news Tune in to the torture To those with no clues.
March in starch it’s a farce A fierce infallible force Dot, dot dash then the crash Send me messages in Morse.
Clips of calculations Places on the map In the zone on the throne Feed me some more crap.
The mystery of the mouse A race out in the rain Around the house with our cat Klaus Driving me insane.
If you come, bring the sun And come in your sarong Lubricate your vocals Don’t sing the wrong song.
©
David Rudder 21st February 2021
Thanks for reading.
