What do I do next, asks the overly-fortunate freewheeling artist to the still-standing tree,
All my chores are done, and having been to the home-office and the studio, now I'm free free free!
Oh what oh what, what do I do, do I climb the mountains, or jump from a hill,
Or stare at clouds all day long, or do I go about saving pasture animals from the kill,
Do I go about and out in town, ready to spend time with friends who are so very down
Perhaps stare at the blank piece of canvas and wee hours of the night in my sleeping gown
Or head upon a trip of epic proportions, to understand myself and the world, all on my own?
Do I search for the meaning of the life, head out to search for the spirits or a therapist?
Or do I start my own little thing, tell people I know of the message within,
Maybe head out on an unknown walk, down the road, where nobody knows me?
SO much free time, such little work, so many opportunities,
So much pain, so much hurt, and so much darkness underneath
Is it me, or the world, that is so harsh, to make me all so worried
If all the riches in the universe, and more, cannot afford me a little bit of peace
then all this money, what really can done with it?
On and on I go, until I bite everybody's ear
No mountains to conquer, no hobbies to take up, no animals to fear,
Have I really conquered the world and there's nothing else to do
Or perhaps I fear the greatest tasks of them all,
Getting to know yourself, and to hold your own self near?
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