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Ballad
The Ballad of the Spinning Wheel. Part 1 Madness
My mind my mind it’s a
Spinning wheel within a circle
with a countless change of view
Like an ever turning picture
as my mind runs out of space.
Am I a robber or policeman
just a pig head running wild
Living pictures of tomorrow
yet confined by iron bars.
If the dead cannot receive me
how can living bring me peace.
Yet the gods of deep persuasion
fill my days with guilt and dread.
How can I find a way
what will make this hellish night be day.
The sun may shine on me this moment
Yet the storm clouds drawing near
Am I freezing and afflicted
In the burning heat of day.
Is it raining on my sore frame
or just needles in the mind
Can I live another moment
Am I kept as a tortured sign
People fear me, trap me, call me,
names I never know are true
I’m a simple sort of stupid
With a cruel twist of fate
Can anyone get near me
and calm my wicked ways
Will I pass this way tomorrow
or be just another grave
Will I pass this way tomorrow
or be just another grave.
