Prima Donna Of The Swans Jackson C. Frank

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Having seen the Madonna of Swans
Are you satisfied with your last trip
Lemonade and some pills for the heat
And ice upon the wounds our lady prays for you
But you go on tugging sleeves
Sorting out the leaves
To sacrifice all your grieves
And swearing bitterly each time
Something else is ruined

Locked away in Sand City
Have you ever wondered how you might ever leave
With the boatman taking coins all around
Shadows speaking softly of the coming rain
As you move to midstream
Upon a glass of dream
Wide is the boat of your dreams
And without looking very far
Did you find the meaning

The windless path of an Abraham
Is yours to climb for the splendor of believing
Wake to find each morning
The very final warning
Your day has no dawning
And as usual the truth was something missing