"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

30 April 2013

Off.

Rover

I chase your every footstep 
And I follow every whim. 
When you call the tune I'm ready 
To strike up the battle hymn. 
My lady of the meadows --- 
My comber of the beach --- 
You've thrown the stick for your dog's trick 
But it's floating out of reach. 
The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there. 
So slip the chain and I'm off again --- 
You'll find me everywhere. 

I'm a Rover.

As the robin craves the summer
To hide his smock of red,
I need the pillow of your hair
In which to hide my head.
I'm simple in my sadness,
Resourceful in remorse.
Then I'm down straining at the lead ---
Holding on a windward course.

Strip me from the bundle
Of balloons at every fair:
Colourful and carefree ---
Designed to make you stare.
But I'm lost and I'm losing
The thread that holds me down.
And I'm up hot and rising
In the lights of every town.

- Ian Anderson

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