Hillside building, falling grass   Forest filling, velvet pass   Steplike structure, view commanding   Flatland feeding, homeland breeding      Can we see the years fast ticking, bringing us what will be past?   Should I not say of my own land, “I will never build a house?”      Human rabbits feeding, breeding, leading, needing normal lives   Bringing, banging, clanging, breathing smoke and soot   The Man arrives      Some are thinkers with ideals   Some are running around waving their arms in the air with no idea what they are trying to accomplish here      Electric growing, telecom going deeper and deeper into space   One day coming, all have plumbing   Save us from our frantic pace      Fearful feeling not withstanding   Hillside dream I not abandon   Still I stir this troubled question      Shall I wear my last clean sox?   Shall I put them in a box?   Should I wear them out?   Should I have another stout?      When I think I’m only spinning wheels in hopes of slowly pinning down in mind a firm conclusion, how the fuck to live my life…      Motherfucker!