Love has many jars to choose from Containing many different things I look up at the sky and ask What jar do I get today? This jar is nearly empty This jar hasn’t been opened This jar has only animal fat This jar has sweet gold honey
Love has many jars to choose from Stacked up in the larder High up on the special shelf Are the ones for which you have to try harder Love do you favour kings only? Love do you favour only beauty? Love what have I done wrong? And how have I failed in my duty?
The six o’clock dawn Opening the sky The breath of light Turns dreams into roots Rising from the sea of sleep My soul is filled with leaves My face comes to life On the border of light In the bright space A song begins seeing The bow of summer Ploughs through rippling waves I reach for a lifeline But I sink back in its depth
How can you Be sure That the summer Ever existed before
Why does the wood Produce only leaves? Why does the wood Produce only woody fruit? Why does the wood Look so beautiful in summer And so corpse like in winter? Why does the wood Produce just enough to feed the birds? Why does the wood Quibble with man? Why does the winter Shut it all down?
What’s to stop you From turning blossom into fruit Why are you waiting
Money has gone mad It is the plastic That destroys the earth
Scoop up some soil In the palm of your hand And plant a seed
A palm full of soil Isn’t that wonderful?
The wild grapes Are under pressure Little voices Inside each one Cries help
If the rain Comes early They are glad
In a future sky There is a crushing There are baskets Filled with red
Politics drives forwards In slow motion Through all that we build Taking time to bury What grows from the garden
Some kind of shadow In man Some kind of answer To his godlessness Some kind of carrier Of the nations Into the lava of destiny
Politics drives forward Over every structure Over every natural plan That comes to the mind Of people That form a line Behind it Like dead convicts Stripped naked of life
Politics drives forward The tractor That drives thru the forest The tank That drives thru the buildings With war and destruction Politics drives on
And in the end Its’ greatest achievement Is to plant a flag on the moon
Politics in a normal world Is choice Between teams
Is building a team Of indestructible power This is its Ultimate aim This is its challenge
There was The war to end all wars But evil persisted In the arms that had held guns That had felt the vibration of rounds That had saw the flowers of blood
It was the beginning, not the end The end is yet to come