The Wound

I've done everything that can be done to heal this wound

Left it on it's own for years

I've done everything that can be done to heal this wound

Left it on it's own for years

Couldn't touch it, didn't pick it, didn't get it wet

It didn't stop the bleeding

I bandaged it, I wrapped it, stitched it, tourniqueted it

I held it stiff & aching in the air

Held it there til I went beserk

Didn't sleep

It didn't work

Didn't stop it weeping

And the wound is your life

And your life took on a life of it's own

(Or so you foolishly thought)

And your life rolled on over me Bang-Bang like 56 train wheels

Every time I heard news of you

And the wound was in every lousy song on the radio

And the pain was like a tree-fern in the dark, damp, forgotten places

Darkness didn't stop her growing

New-born baby cells dividing..

Curled up tight unrolling day by day

Stretching up, stretching out

Forming the same identical shape

Clones. There ain't too much sadder than

Clones - relentlessly emerging from the hairy heart of the wound

And the fern is beautiful in it's own way

Uncurling in the dark

Beautiful with no one there to see it

As the would weeps & aches

(Now there's some sad things known to the man from the planet Marzipan)