PIANO
Oh, God
I tremble in my boots
Oh, God
Down to my very roots
Oh, God
The moment I dread most
The moment when -
in all my wisdom
prudence
cleverness -
I deemed it prudent
clever
WISE!
That at this very moment
I should improvise!
Yes, improvise!
Me, improvise!
Or rather that -
if my show were
ship or boat -
sit back and watch the thing
CAPSIZE
or float!
Now I’m on a crazy tack!
What shall I say
to get back on track?
Oh, yes!
Today
An easy start
A subject familiar to all
We’ve all experienced it
Or I hope we have
In one form or another
However small
Today
Hm! Hm!
Today
Oh, God
I hate this
Im-pro-vi-sation
A thing at which
I must admit
I’m not the greatest of sensations
As I am at other things
Which brings me back -
quite simply -
to
Today
Today
Oh, get on with it, Lillian!
If you insist
I do! I do!
The minutes that pass are precious
And all too few
Which leads me subtly on to
TIME
But what about today?
Oh, yes!
But first the little matter of today
Thank you for reminding me
My pleasure
Why anyone would prefer today to time
Which quite frankly encompasses
all todays that ever were
and ever will be
I cannot fathom,
But there we are,
or were,
now I’m confused,
Oh, the piano will destroy you
The piano will destroy you
If you let it,
now come on,
stop procrastinating,
which is a subtle way
of getting to today,
for what is this delay
or procrastinithinimmigug
if not a desire
to do tomorrow
what should be done
today
So there we have it
Without delay
I will improvise upon
Today
Today
was very simi-lar to
yesterday
And
I believe
The forecast is
That tomorrow will be much the same
Though we may call it by a different name
And furthermore
I do believe
That every day
By which I mean of course
Today
Tomorrow
And, yes,
Yesterday
Are of much the same material made
And while we’re on the subject
TIME
Not yet, you swine
What do you mean
A little soliloquy
On, yes,
Let’s see
Ah, yes!
The days of the week
And then on Time I’ll let you speak
Oh, God
The piano will destroy you
The piano will destroy you!
Tuesday,
Wednesday
Where does it start?
The week I mean
I seek a start
A point from which I can depart
Or is it Sunday
No, it’s Monday
Or we assume it is
The start I mean
But how
in God’s name
do we know
My week starts on Friday
Well it did this week
But if next week it is another day
how do I know when next week has begun?
Which brings me subtly on to TIME
TIME is a pool
A stagnant pool
It’s not a machine
Well oiled and clean
It’s how you perceive it
That decides how you receive it
I see no structure
See no lines
I see a lazy arm instead
That hangs
Yes, hangs
Hangs limply in the water
Oh, the piano will destroy you
The piano will destroy you
Time Time
For you a rhyme
The present soon becomes the past
The future was not made to last
For future soon becomes the present
Soon becomes the past
Where it remains
A little
and, yes, slightly
overcast
And if I’m overcrowding -
As I’m overcrowding mine -
Your little brains
I’ll change the subject
Change the rhyme
Change the trains
And
Change the line
Where to now?
Quick
Quick
Mustn’t stop
Scurry
Scurry
(Phone rings)
Hello.
I’m in a hurry.
No, don’t worry.
Can’t talk now.
Must say ‘Goodbye’.
Goodbye.
(Puts phone down)
There, I said it.
Now, where was I?
Ah, yes.
The floods of time.
The years and months fly by.
As do the seconds
minutes
hours
and micro ...
Stop!
Stop!
So much to say!
And do!
Where does it go?
This flood of time
Where does it come from?
Where from does it spill?
This everlasting stream
Whose rivulets I see
upon my skin.
And then when skin is
cracked and scored
and paper thin
And drought is present
where the waters
in their fury
once did roar
I then am carried
by the current
Where?
Where?
When all is at an end?
If end indeed there is
I cannot think.
I cannot think.
The piano will destroy me.
The piano will destroy me.
And time.
Time.
It’s getting late.
The hours,
the minutes,
and the seconds
tick, tick,
and trickle on
Ah,
The piano.
The piano.
The piano.