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Yes Page #6
l don't see the rhyme or reason
in this so-called grand design...
But then l don't believe, there is no sign
of him up there as far as l'm concerned
See... if there's one thing that l've
truly learned it's this: it's down to me
And you, of course
Each one of us is it, we are the source
of all the bad... and of the good things too
Well, out with it, what's happening with you?
At last you've got some color in your cheeks
l haven't seen you
look this way in weeks
Or maybe months
it even could be years
Don't tell me... you're in
love, aren't you my dear?
Not with that English
chap, what a mistake!
l knew it from the start
lt only takes another one to come along
and then your heart tells you that
frankly speaking, men are not all equal
Some are better, love
lt's just another trick from that one up above
if He exists, which He, or She, does not
Unless l didn't notice, or forgot
but l've a perfect memory...
l lie here running through the lot, l think
l'll die with all that information tucked away
l'd trade in all of it for
just one day, in Cuba
- Auntie? What did you say?
- You heard me, Cuba
l'd love to see the place, the people
the reality of how it all turned out
And Castro... Castro gave us hope he did
oh yes, he's better than the Pope...
l'd love to shake his hand
- You should go soon
- Yes
l tell you, we'll be living on the moon
before we have another go like that
A great big dream that's fallen pretty flat
in all the other countries where they tried
they'll regret it
Communism died, but
what came in it's place?
A load of greed, a life spent
longing for things you don't need
lf and when l die
l want to see you cry
l want to see you tear your hair
your howls of anguish fill the air
l want to see you beat your breast
and rent your clothes and all the rest
And, sobbing, fall upon my bed
l want to know that l am dead
l want to know l'm part of you and that
you cannot bear me being torn away
l want to see you dressed in black
with red-rimmed eyes from
sleepless nights of grieving
l want to hear you protest at me leaving
l want to see you in each
other's arms, and wailing
See you kick a chair
and punch the wall
and see you, moaning, fall
upon the ground and scream
l want to know this isn't just a dream
l want my death to be just like my life
l want the mess, the
struggle, and the strife
l want to fight and
see you fight for me
l want to hear your last regrets, the
things you wish you'd done and said
ln fact l'd like that
just before l'm dead
Don't let them put you off
or make you go, or say it's bad
For me, or makes it hard for
me to leave... it won't be true
l want to see you grieve
Don't let me drown
in silence all pious and polite...
Let's make a lot of noise!
A different kind of light will fill the room
l want my death to wake
you up and clean you out
And as l end l'll hear you shout
- No, no
- But l will go
No, please don't die
Life is so short and precious, let's
not waste what we've been given
Look, we have not faced the truth
Even the rages we express perhaps
contain the seeds of happiness
- Let's go... let's go to Cuba
- What?
Far away
From everyone, we've never spent a day
and night together, only an hour or two
Let's take the time
for just me and you...
- l'm in Beirut
- You are?
l have a friend we trained
and worked together
ln the end he stayed
he's married, now he has a son
There's only one life, this is it
Let's seize the time, l'll send
a ticket to you... l'll go on ahead...
- lt's many years...
- Since you have been there?
My auntie died, she
died, my aunt is dead
You'll have a lot to say, a lot
to share, l'll send the ticket anyway
Dirt doesn't go, it just
gets moved around
Some things get burnt
or buried in the ground
But fire makes smoke
and soot and greasy grime
And buried stuff
crops up after a time...
lt travels slowly, one could say it creeps
lt's all the water underneath, it seeps
God gave us eyes that do not
see too much or we'd go mad
We'd never want to touch
a bed again, a sofa or a chair
lf we could see the
things that live in there
There's millions of them
loads of things with legs
They fornicate and then
they lay their eggs...
They think our dirt is lovely, they
survive by eating what we shed
They are alive because
bits of us are dead
Now, smaller than the mites are germs
Well, we do what we can, we scrub
and scrub but they fly when we sneeze
on drops of moisture
packed out with disease
then all we have to do is take a breath
and they're inside us
fighting to the death
lt's not just germs, it seems
they're not the worst
There's viruses, some say they were the first
things to exist, and 'cause they are so small
They can't be cleaned
away, no, not at all
Not ever, that's why, really, in the end
there's no such thing as spotless...
You just send the dirt to
somewhere else, push it around
The work is endless
that is what l've found
Maybe this earth is just a ball of fluff
Some great big cleaner
out there said:
enoughAnd that is how we all survived, why not?
We're just the parasites that God forgot
The point is this, we never disappear
despite it being what we all most fear
We're certainly not
finished when we die
However hard the undertakers try
every single creature feeds another
Everyone is everybody's mother...
or, at the very least, a kind of host
change, at most, but never vanish
No, we leave a stain
a fingerprint, some mess
Perhaps some pain, some fear
or doubt in someone else's heart
Mum?
We leave a mess
in fact, when we depart
God if you exist...
l need to confess
Please speak to me, just once
don't make me guess your point of view
for l might get it wrong...
l know l have strayed so far
l don't belong in any church of yours
l sang the song of science
yes, l sang it every day
But, l could argue, that is how l pray
For twenty years, God, can it be?
l've cut, dissected, carefully and with
respect each living cell a source of wonder
Yes l tried to see
to penetrate your mystery
The point is, God, you never lie
but you have secrets so have l
Now all l was has
turned to ash and doubt
Others tasted me and
even stabbed me up
First is blossom, then there is decay
lmpermanence will never go away
ln fact it is the only certainty
There come a time when
l used to be but not quite yet
Oh God
Can you forgive me for not...
for not... believing in you?
- Seniora?
- Si?
Senior
When you look closer
nothing goes away
lt changes, see, like night
becomes the day and day the night
but even that's not true:
lt's really all about your point of view
Depending where you're
standing on the earth...
ln the end, it simply isn't worth
Your while to try and
clean your life away
You can't, for, everything
you do or say is there forever
lt leaves evidence
ln fact it's really only common sense
there's no such thing as nothing, not at all
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"Yes" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 1 Sep. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/yes_23810>.
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