Husk

Slumped over on a stake
Mr. Husk was in a mood
His kerchief bunched his mouth agape
Unusually subdued
Why was Mr. Husk perturbed?
He saw the path at hand
Where crows would gather, circling but they would never land
If you could call that a living, if you'd call that a life
Most folks would say that he was doing fine
But Mr. Husk wasn't having it
He saw his chance and grabbed it
He pitched forward and went tumbling cross the line

Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh
Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh

Stepping languidly along, Mr. Husk was on a roll
As he doffed his hat to folks that he encountered on his stroll
Until a wayward truck
Dashed him clear against the rocks
He said "I guess that's what I get for going for a walk"
If you could follow that logic, if you'd call that a thought
You might have checked that arithmetic just right
But we're all made in isolation, lonely vigils at our stations
No great sacrifice to defy our design

Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh
Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh

Reduced to all his parts, Mr. Husk gathered his thoughts
And pondered how his great adventure added up to naught
Feeling only tiny pokes where the burrs had dug their hooks
It seemed a sad and sorry end for the old man of the rooks
If you would call that an ending
If you would call that a stop
You might have missed the dust that stirred to life
Cause we all have a germ within us
Barely big enough to spin us
Little worlds all swirling cleverly in line

Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh
Ooh hoo ooh ooh ooh ooh
Oooh ooh oooh ooh

If you could call this a living
If you'd call this a life
Most folks would say that we're not doing fine
But Mr. Husk did ascertain that
Through catastrophe and pain
We break down and we tumble back to life
Oh, tumble for me

I'm a stubborn little weed
I exploded from a seed
I will grow from concrete crack
I will grow, can't be pruned back
I'm a stubborn little weed
I exploded from a seed
I will grow from concrete crack
I will grow, can't be pruned back

We're all made in isolation
Lonely vigils at our stations
No great sacrifice to defy our designs
It's barely big enough to spin us
Little worlds all swirling cleverly in line
Through catastrophe and pain
We break down and we tumble back to life



Credits
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