The Pied Piper

Hear the calling of the man, who always knew to make his stand,

Who always knew the notes that flew, from never never never land.

Who could never compromise, a gaze so wide,

For instructions and the lies, in which our world resides.

Hear the chorus of his dream, that knew life wasn’t what it seems,

Who always knew to find, the diamond of his mind,

And with a vision to redeem, the chains to which we’re tied.

Hear the calling of the piper, who pied and spied into the viper

Of our poisonous and ugly nature, and make us that much riper.

Who heard with visionary stature, of a place beyond our capture,

Who sought with music to enrapture, in a river so much brighter.

Hear the chanting of the man, who always led the caravan,

Who always led the way, for our dreams to taste the day;

Hear the singing of the sun, that always knew it was the one

To bring its brightness to the trees, And bring its stardom to the leaves,

To melodise the seven seas;

And swim into our great release,

With lips that call the stars to dance 

The muse of music, in its endless romance,

Whisps the sailor into endless space,

Until we are drenched in beauty, and he forgets his face.