Mason Proper Life's Cornucopia
Life's cornucopia
Mouth all a'gushing green
Full, every feaster fades
Fog framed in rain
Sir, s'that a watch you wear?
Ma'am, with your bird feather hair!
You shells, you complacent snails
Stoned, slumped and stale
Are you starving?
This is a poison plate
Cooked by the face run numbered grinning gates
You can refuse, be saved
Would it be nice to buy some time to...
Sit and stare for days at stars and lights on satellites
Your eyes going dry but never quite
Glossing over?
Though shades of place may lose it's sight
Till your mindless
Why not be timeless?
Life's cornucopia
Spilling out, spilling out
