THE KETTLE’S BOILING BUT THE ENGINE’S WEARY
©Trev Teasdel Coventry April 1970


The fortress gate opened like a mouth
The stars increased their light bill
by 10,000 kilowatts.
The hand of fate asks kindly to be kissed.


Chorus
But weary as a winning post
i couldn’t take the pace.
My pupils let in too much light
I lay dazzled on the floor.


The sea caressed my feet,
the water warm, the feeling sweet.
The drawbridge fell like angels in the blaze of hell.
I took the brick from within my eye,
But no matter how hard i try.


The express train had arrived
First class ticket handed.
The thorns of guidance had stung at last.
The ball was in the net.
but time like a Ferrari raced
as the sun hid inside its wardrobed face.


The swing bridge joined the shore
The sun like custard laughed
to see me hesitate far too long
and completely miss the boat.
and learn too late
that those who wish to build a fire
must put some fire in.