I got this thing in the seventies
I tried for years to give it back
Then, one day I couldn’t find it anymore
So it went on the attack
Then I gave it to my children
I tried in vain to take it back
It drove them into desperation
Now we’re stuck in this shellac
Not dying, and not quite living
Not guilty, but we beg to be forgiven
Not in pieces, but we’re not whole either
Still standing like a Lebanon cedar
A Lebanon cedar
