Sit in the sun
At least once everyday
Go do it now
And please do not delay
Sit in the sun
Feel the rays on your face
Get back outside
Where most cares are erased
Sit in the sun
While you still have the time
Soak up the beams
That make life so sublime
Sit in the sun
A yellow star baking
Right here and now
Good times in the making
You're my sweetheart of a twin,
'tis jolly life we're swimming in
Oh, we sailed supersonic winds,
'pon two grand adventure grins!
My sweetheart of a twin
'Tis a jolly life we're in
A microsecond grin
As faint as dying wind
Spock's now a legendary icon here in 3023
no one cares he's fictitious in olden days tv
we only worship logic and pure rationality
as science is our faith Spock fits us to a tee
Daddy, my science teacher says the Earth's 4.5 billion years old
they don't know anything; Earth's 6.000 years old bible says so!
Mommy, my science teacher says the men that wrote the Bible
thought the Earth was flat and at the center of all the Universe
well, that teacher doesn't know what the hell he's talkin' about
Mommy and Daddy, my science teacher said God's just an idea
that human beings made him up to help our life feel less scary
to explain earthquake, flood, volcanos, tornados, and mortality
Well if that ain't about the stupidest thing I've ever even heard
I'm goin' to your school first thing in the mornin' to tell on him
Life is momentary
A dreamy, gilded cage
Short fused by frail design
Cut short in ripe old age
Life is ungraspable
An odd candelabrum
Short wicks in melting wax
Held fast by spirit gum
Oh, please say I believed in science,
please add in some mystical charm
yes, delete misunderstood snippets,
afore my remembrance 'tis harmed
Oh, please say I believed in all facts,
which breathe in a theoretical truth
with forbearance of a futuristic seer
lived courageously in poetical proof
What words will the grievers write
For comrades soon departed
Laundry lists of platitudes
And tropes to get them started
Long-revolving doors of death
Bring out the best in others
Party lines of puffery
And documented druthers
What praise will the mourners heap
For their loved one's tagged big toe
Chestnuts bud from shibboleths
And the best in obit show
There's a time before my birth,
which hereto didn't exist at all
where matter of my mutations
muddles in spaces quite small
There'll be eons post my death,
when after equals every before
and memories of my existence
will disappear at invisible door
Dabble in truth
Dibble all sooth
In the orchards of
Chauncey Gardner
