Wind Wind

Everything changes; nothing is gained.
Nothing changes; everything gets lost.

Yeh, we’re just screwing around with you,
Words changing places, silly pranksters,

Childish dancers, rings around roses,
That sort of thing. We have our reasons,

Same as children spinning in a room,
Ignoring the world outside the door,

Whether it’s raining or suburban
Or city or woods or raining bombs.

Still and all, words seem still, but we fall,
We all fall down, and unless someone,

Some volcano or invading force
Ashes us so fast fire preserves us,

Everything us is still nothing much
But what’s left from searching for what’s lost.