Yacov david - Whether You're Alive or Dead lyrics

Whether you're alive or dead, You still will have to make your bed, Pick up after yourself, Put the books back on the shelf, Dust the floor, Feed the poor, Watch the snow fall And call to God. We've been prodded, Poked, yoked, Choked, and joked about So long, without a doubt. But history pours down the spout, and the same slack-jawed lout stands straining blankly, and his hair grows rankly, and you–stay! Say what you will, Here at the window sill Or wherever you're prepared to jump. Like it or lump it, The snow falls. So Recall snatches of Edgar Alan Poe, Something about the eternal crow And the ravening maelstrom. Wherever you are from, Friend, take my hand, Have some canned Pineapples. How one grapples With the issues of the day! Weep into multiple tissues, and, say, Is that a snuff box you're got there? Yes, it's full of air, Of fire, of earth and rock and wire And I fished it from the clear stream, Switching its tail amidst the bream. Don't crowd, boys, This white powder Will make you sneeze, louder Than any new-born, puling Child at the dueling Within him. How different life looks At the edge of the galactic rim. There, all earth looks like a hymn Or a herd of elephants Crashing through the savannah, Trampling the manna. And you wander about In your pajamas, pink With little figures of llamas And ovoid panoramas Of an entire conjecture Packed within a lugubrious lecture, As you chow down in the refectories Upon sandwiches light as heaven. Eventually, you will get caught And the good that you bought Will stick to your bones, Mr. Jones. So you may as well Ring the bell, Let the swell Of the sea slap And rap Upon your seaworthy skiff, If You dare float upon a sea Of possibility. So hope Or mope Upon the beach, Listen to the seagulls screeching Over offal. The buffalo are extinct, You may be thinking, we've been jinxed And parboiled, Soiled and rotten. What on Earth more can we do? Man, we can man the lifeboats, Eat whole grain oats, Rub angels' wings And other invisible things Into the snow, Grow an inch a day, Pray for rain, Strain our brain And then Like a master of Zen Stand upon a mountain top Where all has stopped, Before history began, Where the blood of the ram ran. Just one blank slate And a cornucopia overflowing onto a plate And the promise Of an armistice. Now take this pinch of snuff. It's heady stuff. It clears the wind And rescinds the dust of millennia. Many a time, I've dipped my nappy Head into the sappy wind And wiped my eyes in honey. One: ease your mind, Two: find inner peace Three: may I introduce you to my niece? Just release the handbrake On that car. It's gotten pretty far To here. If you just don't jeer At the dusty steering wheel, The out of shape muffler And the gruff lurching of the gears For the past three or four thousand years. I think you'll get a smile As it whips about this island Beneath the divine eye. A hurricane is blowing up, and my Chilblains are acting up. So come on in for supper: And stay awake And make out Like a bandit. I've got to hand it to you, There among the mimosa plants: You sure know how to dance!