The Chase

I'm being chased by the world
Across the universe
By glass people.
Senseless and dumb.
Press a button, flick a switch,
And they'll work for you,
Speak for you, hear for you;
But they can't feel for you:
There's no trigger in the mind
Of a gun that shoots the heart,
And wounds you, kills you.
Then you're a dead person,
No longer being chased by the world,
No longer being hurt by the world.

The gun's been fired
Too many times
By too many people,
Already dead, killed by the world
In the chase.

Catch me if you can. 

 

27 May 1970