BRUNK HOWARD


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lines of imagination

Man thinks he knows.

Man thinks he controls.

Sands shift with the flow.

Winds say where they go.


Who is it that blows and blows?

Who is it that really knows?

Who can blow smoke rings through his nose?

Who can be vertical while at repose?

Who is it do you suppose?

Who is it that really knows?

Who’s finally reached the coast?

Who's got one hell of an ark of a boat?

You can forget about the moat.

Goodbye is all she wrote.


Line in the sand?

Strike up the band!

Tears come from the lacrimal gland.


There’s a line drawn in the sand

By the parody of man’s hand.

Now you see it; now you don’t.

“You shouldn’t have sneezed.”

“Next time I won’t.”


God said, “This shall not stand.”

The chief said, “This will not stand.”

There’s a line drawn in the sand.”

Cold winds blow over hot desert land.


Wish it was make believe, man o man.

I’d be your sweetheart in Wonderland.

We’d walk off the edge hand in hand

Searchin’ for our Promised Land.

Dreamin’ it’s all slight of hand

Done with mirrors by Sam the Sham.


Line in the sand?

Strike up the band!

Tears come from the lacrimal gland.


Can you take the measure of man

With lines drawn in the sand?

Now you see them; now you don’t.

“You shouldn’t have sneezed.”

“Next time I won’t.”


Lines drawn in the sand

Next to Ozymandias’ hand

Lose themselves in the master plan

Of winds blowin’ over lone, level sands.


Lookin’ for a vanished land

Where giants imagined desert sands

And no need for lines to make your stand

And no need to understand.


Line in the sand?

Strike up the band!

Tears come from the lacrimal gland.