Song From Up The Bloody Tree [after 'Living on the Ceiling' by Blancmange]

This time you will try,

find that secret,

tell that secret,

abandon that fight,

(you Prometheus you).

Run

from the fears

of the masses

that follow you,

follow you

up that pedestal

so high,

that pedestal

its vertigo

traps you there -

while they enjoy the ground

under your words,

under your stare,

under your

almost-brave-enough

deathwish -

almost brave enough.

Graced by your maddened stare

their ground is firm,

they look up to you and

they

do not realise

that they

force you to look down,

(except when you are running,

climbing further,

running).

Fly,

dare to fly

(they will congratulate themselves

but no matter

dare to fly anyway).

Shout,

dare to,

and don't worry

when you stare

it is ok

to stare,

really,

for your inspiration

could

lift those masses,

your realisation

could shift

that molasses-slow

consciousness

of theirs,

although

can you be so sure

that they aren't you?