Styx and Stones

 

I went out fishing on the River Styx.  I was hungry for more than bread.

I slipped through a narrow mountain pass and saw the message to feed my head.

It was equinox in a Peach Blossom Spring but the flowers wore harsher tones.

I was expecting Eden or Shangri-la but all I found was Styx and Stones,

nothing but S&S.

 

I saw the image of thunder under the mountain with fire in the morning sky.

The jester was dancing with the white queen.  He had an evil look in his eye.

They were talking debt and how she might repay what seemed like innocent loans.

They were all past due to the Devil and she knew and he don’t take S&S.

You can’t pay him with S&S.

 

The heroic knight had lost his way.  He was confused by dueling clocks.

He wandered in the hall of mirrors, enchanted by the ticks and the tocks.

There were drifting clouds of black and gray over piles of parched white bones.

I wanted to leave but I could only stand there staring at the S&S.  Nothing but S&S.

 

The calm seas boiled as Poseidon smashed his scepter on the crashing waves.

On the opposite bank, through the pounding mist, I could see every pilgrim’s grave.

On the ferryman’s map there were skulls and crosses marking all the danger zones.

The icy water in a furious rage was crashing on the S&S, smashing the S&S.

 

I saw Jean Harlow with Billy the Kid.  They were dancing cheek to cheek.

He was a dangerous man with a six gun but now his knees seemed a little bit weak.

The music reached crescendo as the poisoned stings of the drones

Erased their dreams and replaced them all with visions of S&S, with images of S&S.

 

Off in the distance over burning sands, dancing in a faint mirage,

Hand in hand with his gypsy band, Orion stumbled from his hunting lodge.

The heavy timbers sagged in the rain with soft and painful groans.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again.  There was nothing but S&S.  I only saw S&S.

 

Cinderella in red on silver skates was posing with the king of hearts.

But the king was looking for an uptown girl an’ Cinderella didn’t fit the part.

I couldn’t hear what she whispered in my ear.  There were a thousand ringing phones.

But as I walked away I heard the artist say, “You can pay me with S&S. 

I’m kinda partial to S&S.”

 

Winging through the dark and wild night, a dragon flew East with the storm

And the black hole that followed behind him had no substance and it had no form.

Plain Jane put all her needles away to the sounds of sighs and moans.

And as the curtain fell away the last light of day was shining on S&S,

on nothing but S&S.

 

Buried in a place that’s deep and cold, on the other side of time

Are the parts and pieces of another world, all those words that never rhyme.

Images that seem so out of place in a universe of spheres and cones

Like the jagged lines and the razor’s edge on the shapes of S&S, covering the S&S.

 

So if you go fishing on the River Styx, and you’re hungry for more than bread,

And you slip through the narrow mountain pass and see a message to feed your head,

And it’s equinox in a Peach Blossom Spring, and all the flowers wear harsher tones,

Don’t expect to find Eden or Shangri-la.  You'll find nothing but S&S, nothing but S&S.   

 

©  2006 - RDT