it don't mean a thing

a swing with no seat
a park without pigeons
a sign in the window
folks keep passing by

i s'pose it's ontology
a bit of cosmology
the hopes that someday
i'll fin'ly know why

not the blue sky
not the red sun
not the bleakness of winter
nothing so basic could keep me at post

why we feel lonely
in a crowd of our only
loved ones and best friends and
jobs we love most

just one piece amiss
just one shift to frighten
just one lousy sour
in a sweet afternoon

just one works a-wrenching
just one clue a-fishing
just one got me wishing
it'll all 'over soon

and then, knowledge strikes
as moodiness spikes
why, everyone likes
to open up and sing

what if i said
"hey man, knock my head"
it's a trifle malfunction
i'm bummed, is the thing

before my vision
one smooth elision
from wrong to right
from black to white

from wond'ring to knowing
from reaping to sowing
from cursing to blowing
raspberries in the night

i'm quite easily depressed
i'm quite easily obsessed
with little details, tiny quand'ries
and the thrill of success

but i want no fine trophy
i need no big plaque
i just need to say-
oh, baby, i'm back!