I went to sail upon the sea
Of mankind's discontent,
But all I saw was a fishin' hole
By which I pitched my tent.
I approached its sandy shores,
And was left, well, quite befuddled.
That which I'd thought a vasty sea
Was less than a pond, 't'was a puddle.
I stripped my clothes, not to be daunted,
And dove headlong headfirst…
And found, very much to my chagrin,
The world had been reversed.
I dove in hard, led with my head,
Expecting to hit ground,
But a chasm as deep as Marianas
Was the only thing I found.
I gazed into that briny deep,
Awaiting demons bitter;
But all I saw was two sad shades
Approach me all a-jitter.
In ghostly form they floated to me,
All trembley and pale,
And said, as Robert Zimmerman would,
"It's not a sea, it's a jail!"
"It's true this sea of discontent
Is deep and it is wide,
And it would take ten thousand years
To reach the other side."
"There's plenty that you could explore
If you ever so desired,
But after the first million years
You'd be bored and you'd be tired."
I realized that what they said
Was true as true could be,
And that I'd known it well before
I'd dived into this sea.
"It's best to not be so introspective
And interested in myself;
The proper study of mankind
Is the other books upon the shelf."
I climbed out of the puddle
And headed back downtown
To see if any childhood friends
Were still hanging around.
The town was empty, the lights were off,
No soul disturbed the dark,
Except my dad, who waited calmly
On a bench out in the park.
"Son," he said, "I'm glad you're back,
I really wasn't sure
If you'd get over being self-obsessed
And listening to The Cure."
"You thought this town was a dead end
Where life would be cut short;
Listen for once to crazy old dad:
This town is a spaceport."
"The town entire's gone astronaut,
And I'm not far behind…
To explore the astral fields and fires,
To go new worlds find."
"I told you that we'd take this trip
Years ago, it seems.
Instead it looks like you forgot
And turned to Puddle Dreams."
"I gave you this when you were young,
In fact, you were just two.
I never told you what it was for,
But I said what it would do."
He stepped forward and he hugged me,
And put something in my pocket.
I pulled it out as he walked away:
It was a key to my own rocket.
I looked closely and I saw
Bright words etched upon the key:
A nursery rhyme now understood,
Which he used to read to me:
"This is the key of the kingdom.
In that kingdom there is a city.
In that city there is a street.
In that street there is a yard.
In that yard there is a house.
In that house there is a room.
In that room there is a bed.
On that bed there is a basket.
In that basket there are some flowers.
Flowers in the basket,
Basket on the bed,
Bed in the room,
Room in the house,
House in the yard,
Yard in the street,
Street in the city,
City in the kingdom,
And this is the key of the kingdom."
Of mankind's discontent,
But all I saw was a fishin' hole
By which I pitched my tent.
I approached its sandy shores,
And was left, well, quite befuddled.
That which I'd thought a vasty sea
Was less than a pond, 't'was a puddle.
I stripped my clothes, not to be daunted,
And dove headlong headfirst…
And found, very much to my chagrin,
The world had been reversed.
I dove in hard, led with my head,
Expecting to hit ground,
But a chasm as deep as Marianas
Was the only thing I found.
I gazed into that briny deep,
Awaiting demons bitter;
But all I saw was two sad shades
Approach me all a-jitter.
In ghostly form they floated to me,
All trembley and pale,
And said, as Robert Zimmerman would,
"It's not a sea, it's a jail!"
"It's true this sea of discontent
Is deep and it is wide,
And it would take ten thousand years
To reach the other side."
"There's plenty that you could explore
If you ever so desired,
But after the first million years
You'd be bored and you'd be tired."
I realized that what they said
Was true as true could be,
And that I'd known it well before
I'd dived into this sea.
"It's best to not be so introspective
And interested in myself;
The proper study of mankind
Is the other books upon the shelf."
I climbed out of the puddle
And headed back downtown
To see if any childhood friends
Were still hanging around.
The town was empty, the lights were off,
No soul disturbed the dark,
Except my dad, who waited calmly
On a bench out in the park.
"Son," he said, "I'm glad you're back,
I really wasn't sure
If you'd get over being self-obsessed
And listening to The Cure."
"You thought this town was a dead end
Where life would be cut short;
Listen for once to crazy old dad:
This town is a spaceport."
"The town entire's gone astronaut,
And I'm not far behind…
To explore the astral fields and fires,
To go new worlds find."
"I told you that we'd take this trip
Years ago, it seems.
Instead it looks like you forgot
And turned to Puddle Dreams."
"I gave you this when you were young,
In fact, you were just two.
I never told you what it was for,
But I said what it would do."
He stepped forward and he hugged me,
And put something in my pocket.
I pulled it out as he walked away:
It was a key to my own rocket.
I looked closely and I saw
Bright words etched upon the key:
A nursery rhyme now understood,
Which he used to read to me:
"This is the key of the kingdom.
In that kingdom there is a city.
In that city there is a street.
In that street there is a yard.
In that yard there is a house.
In that house there is a room.
In that room there is a bed.
On that bed there is a basket.
In that basket there are some flowers.
Flowers in the basket,
Basket on the bed,
Bed in the room,
Room in the house,
House in the yard,
Yard in the street,
Street in the city,
City in the kingdom,
And this is the key of the kingdom."
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