There's trouble up at Cowbell Barn   The Shadoks are going back to the moon   With rhodedendrons in a burlap sack   Resin on a hessian violin rag   All in Helvetica Light      Robert the devil witnessed the nostril   Of an elderly phoenix in a youth hostel   Playing violin up a monkey pine   In a finger painting for Dr Prinzhorn   (Psychiatrist of these parts)      The violin frightened Bimbo the cat   So they put on a tape of the sound of pot plants   Growing, little knowing   That a woodlouse would grouse about that      A call came in from the Empire of Numbers   A government inspector was passing amongst us   Incognito, my little female circus rider   From Exotik Park would have to go      Rainy weather by the river   Snake paths in the grass   The child with a Chloranthemum divining twig   Cuts Alpinism class      Delia Derbyshire, Malcolm Clarke   And Desmond Briscoe sit in the dark   Invoking a spirit mathematician:   Phra the Phoenician      High on his evergreen reputation   Don John's under investigation   Apparently his donkey ratted on him   Because the Don frightened him out of his skin   It's a shambles, never mumble in the brambles      A little Italian opera queen   Is reading a book to the twitter machine   'AAAS Calcul-Geometrie   (Element 18)'      Tunis Hamamet, that conifer smell   The oriental cemetery -- and there's Bill   Explaining pop music to the mentally ill   Stirring mint tea with a Lucifer match   Let's stay a while and watch      Pictograms in porcelain   Sketches of birds, vogel skizzern   Field dynamics for sizothymes   Going for a walk with a line      What a palaver, more's the pity   Death is in Dessau buying pottery   Orienteering, you part the trees   And see three walled medieval cities   And a dragonfly      Meister Eckhart went into the light   And found a desert on the other side   'Children of wisdom', Goethe said   'Make fools of the fools, as one should'   That advice is good      Put down your line, put down your pen   A snowstorm is approaching, friend   Soon it'll all be white   It's paper in the end, and light