The Wheelbarrow

This is your life, it isn't much
 Learn to live, learning to touch
 Pulling the brakes, but still the wheels keep turning around
 This is your life, and it is mundane
 Follow the tacks in a maze through the barrens
 Never to find your way home
 Circling vultures and flicking lanterns
 Showed you the way to the square of your mind
 Moving the hands that you claim as your own,
 It's inevitable, it's inevitable like time
 Poor Lizzy McKay, she wasn't the same after the crash
 According to rumors she had a relapse, or may I say, a nervous breakdown
 Nothing was real except the old memories of summertime
 Hobbling barefoot over the pebbles and bubble wrap
 She was the queen among the powder'd bag-wigs and ruffy-tuffy heads
 Poor Lizzy McKay, she wasnt the same after the fall
 With letters from Paris and cabinet card pictures from Montreal
 Having a ball, lost in the pages of the devouring summertime
 Lizzy McKay created a garden of figurines and libertines among the statues of clay
 She can do anything, she can love everyone
 Doing thes ame routine over and over
 Sparkling diamond ring, doing the highland fling
 Pulling the same routine over and over
 Dancing through repetition
 Poor mr. Demille, he wasn't the same after the war
 Lost in delirium, he was Napoleons troubadour at Borodino
 Always too feeble, always too quail for the kettledrum
 Down at the floodgate he was a priest with a timber boom
 He thought a spike broom was a gunstock of hay
 He can do anything, he can fight anyone,
 Doing the same routine over and over
 Cold as a diamond ring, covered in gabardine
 Marching through time, he gets older and older
 We can do anything, we can change everyone,
 Pulling the same routine over and over
 Writing a symphony of dwelling disharmony,
 Pulling the plug is just out of the question
 Dance me through repetition!
 Spruces and foxgloves in plum colored cascades
 Wheelbarrows of pinecones and cloudberry cream
 It's Monday, it's Tuesday, and nothing is happening
 Squirrels and ducks pushing marbles
 The conifer forest is yours for the rest of the day
 There's no way of knowing, the river keeps flowing on and on and on
 This is your life, it isn't much
 Learning to live, learning to touch
 Pulling the brakes, but still the wheels keep turning around
 This is your life, and it is mundane
 Follow the tracks in a maze through the barrens
 Never to find your way home
 Circling vultures and flickering lanterns
 Showed you the way to the square of your mind
 Moving the hands that you claim as your own,
 It's inevitable, it's inevitable like time
 She can do anything, he can change anyone,
 Doing the same routine over and over
 Bold as a diamond ring, doing the highland fling
 Marching through time, they get older and older
 Dancing, dancing, dancing