Now I’m the fox, and you’re the hound
The tables have turned, turned upside down
I’ve got to jump, plummet like a stone
And run and hide, and leave my home
Now I am the mouse, and you’re the cat
I’ve to hightail it like a plague-carrying rat,
I’ve got to carry the weight of all your lies
And be as homeless as the wind that cries.
Now I’m an island without an isle a stream
I’m left wondering again who I am
What vestige, what remnant of me is, left?
Once I was a young stag, but who am I today,
Now I am a mote without a sovereign’s castle
I am a land without a country,
I live my life each day a little more numbly,
Drinking, more and more ale, and a lot more bourbon
Now I’m a vulture without a bone to pick over
I feel I am broken, like a cracked china plate
One if you release, will surely-break
Get buried in the corner of a garden, never visited.
Now I’m the fox, and you’re the hound
Now I am the mouse, and you’re the cat
Now I’m an island without an isle a stream
Now I am a mote without a sovereign’s castle
Now I’m a vulture without a bone to pick over
I am just alone
I am just alone
I am just alone
I am a broken reed, without a tune.
Mark Heathcote © 2017
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