And was it a friend that turned me loose
Or was it a girl come to baste my goose
Or was it my great god who laid on his finger
and started my clock anew

I’ll know it was rain, I’ll know it was gunning
It was pointbreak and buckle, and singing and cunning
that skinned me reskinned me and started me running
and I never looked back from then on

I am learning bit by bit
‘bout the make and model shit
Muddy bowl, I live in it
and all the mucks, they tire us

I’m afeared if I don’t have a
piglet, lamb or little calf
I’ll chop my humanness in half
and be as worm or virus

Kids I’ve had and they are sung
upon folks’ ears my babes are hung
rhythmically they live among
and grow but don’t get old

Not in a box, not in a void
not if their voice is never hoid
nor if no one repeats a woid
but if their tune is told

Then we can age and fall away
meet again some golden day
and fill it in our happy way
in starlight and in gold

[Steve Miller Band joke here]

–The Bonny Prince