Photosynthesis
A man sat down underneath the great crown
Of an oak in the fields, laid his feet in Oak Creek
Lay his head on the trunk, watching the leaves in the sun
Listened to the bees and their hum, passed out on his rum
Thought about what he’s done – after all these years gone
Can’t find nothing wrong but having written no song
Clapped the hand on his thigh, laughing – ‚I have done right
Maybe not always in time, but let the by-gones pass by‘
It’s pushing me up so high
I know my heart’s alright
It’s all gonna be fine
But I ain’t coming back this time!
The man got up on his feet, staggered a bit in the wind
Blocked some thoughts crashing in, found the balance again
Shook his head to a sigh, put his arms in the sky
Said, ‚It is what it is, man needs photosynthesis!‘
It’s pushing me up so high
I know my heart’s alright
It’s all gonna be fine
But I ain’t coming back this time!