The Free Radical

Is love not a feeling for fool or a king
Who hides the drawn dagger with a smile?
Is shame not the feeling that red-faced boys
Cherish in their heroin vials?

Oh the unsexed beat of the kettle drum
And the notion which binds it to me
The genderless lick of acoustic guitars
Helps the blind dragon to see.
Love of danger and a dangerous love
Are never the same so it seems
Sleeping Beauty and when beauty’s asleep
Are different from the dragon’s dreams.

I sing my love to the funeral crowd
For those who wait on my death
I sing my love to a swirling cloud
Stirred by the fear in your breast.

Is love not a feeling for fool or a king
Who hides the drawn dagger with a smile?
Have you been to the dragon’s hot lair
Have you walked that treacherous mile?

Winded desperation of tiny flutes
Whisper of winter still to come
A timpani rain in the April aisle
Promises a golden sun.
But what of the clouds and the billowing smoke
Of dragons run through with the sword?
That gasp their utter devotion to song
But can’t find appropriate words.

Is love not a feeling for fool or a king
Who hides the drawn dagger with a smile?
Did you see the red-faced clown
Who hanged before the judges came to trial?

Like the shock of the single gunshot
That made the babes cry in the night
The symphony dies as the curtain comes down
And the conductor’s lips are drawn tight.
He’s dined with kings and has drunken with fools
Has tried his best for them all
Love is at best a tenuous thing
He smiled and the dagger let fall.