Surveyor's son

He said "Are you the surveyor's son ?"
I said "He's been dead these many years"
he said "You look like a musician"
while I studied the lobes of his ears
I nodded and I spat on the floor
he shrugged and then he made for the door
saying "I play the organ myself,
but there's my wife and she ain't no help"

           we don't go looking on the old roads
           where day by day we pulled the load
           no, we go searching for ourselves
           in places we've only been once or twice
           to try and capture paradise

My wife she's too good to be true
and every week a new admirer
I lie around and read and smoke
or hurt her saying she's for hire
I awake to hear the stopping car
from bed to window isn't far
and then when she comes stumbling in
I just pretend that I'm sleeping



            refr.

                            what will you do
                            when life and you
                            together see through
                            all that we can do ?


1977.