The Blue Book

Tell Me

How long have you walked, old friend,
and did you find the song
you were searching for?

The one you heard play
on an old transistor radio,
which you spoke of that day
all in a rage
after you lost the signal,
storming off to find it again,
or (failing that) fashion the world
to resemble what you remember,
bend it to your will as if it were only
an illusion.

Have you wandered far enough
from the beaten path to see why
it’s called that?

And then further still
to where it’s not as clear,
to where men are mountains and
it really is just show?

Tell me, finally,
this deepest of your secrets;
have you found a way with heart?

Is that what has led you far out here
to the distant hills of a doubter’s kingdom,
where a signal fire blazes forgiveness
and nothing is forgotten?


Cloud Cult

All The Pretty Horses