Mortality
You grew too fast, you grew too old
Now you are old and you're crying 'cause you know
You're gonna die
in the Knot
of time.
When I die give me a silver cane
Golden shoes with my walking cane
Golden shoes so I can walk away
Far away
from the knot
of Time.
When I die lay my body down
Lay me down in an Egyptian room
Send for the ship. take me away
Far away
from the knot
Of time.
This is part of a tune I wrote many years ago, a bluesy G minor, some time after a dream I had that I've never forgotten.
In it, a person was in a small circular machine going around and around slowly. It was also going up and down in the same rhythm, into the ground and back. Over and over and over. I knew there was no physical escape.
I was awakened to a monotony and repetetive motion to life, and a certain entrapment in the material realm. I think I've accepted this to some extent, as I experience the inevitable aging and natural sequences of living, in my older years. I hope to learn more and more how to let this natural rhythm carry me safely to my death.