There Is A Place

there is a place, i’ve heard it said
where the whipperwill runs mangity mang
wild down the side of the ganges
and the wild brush is orange
and red and bursts into flames
when a song is sung just right

and the light from the flames block
out the sun and the clouds and the wars
and the whipperwill sings his nangity nang
song, o there is a place inside my head

here, these days, i go instead
and the wars and the lies and the pangety pangs
can’t come in here, no the doors been
done barred locked for hopes sake
and there’s a chair that rocks and sits
and rocks for sanity sake

lockity lock that door forever boy, never
let a stranger in, not even a mother, brother
sister, father, it’s your own place for the taking
keeping yourself down deep in something
that makes the wind mean something

and the whipperwill sings his nangity nang
and runs mad wild down the ganges with
the devil hot on his heels
and all that’s green with life and envy
bursts yellow and orange, white hot,
into flames.