Jason Mason hears a sound
A whistle blows in Congo town
And the mail boat's in, the mail boat's in
It
ings him things from oh so far
Old magazines and snickers bars
A simple man, a simple land
The world's too big to understand
Be good and you will be lonesome
Be lonesome and you will be free
Live a lie and you'll live to regret it
That's what living is to me
That's what living is to me
On a timeless beach on Hisanola
A young sips a diet cola
She's worlds apart, worlds apart
The spirit of the black king still
Reverberates through Haitian hills
He rules the sea and all the fish
What if he had a TV dish?
In some far off regions the foriegn legions
Keep the theives and the preditors at bay
While closer to home some bad boys still roam
The streets aren't safe but give it one more day
One more day . . .
The stories from my favorite books
Still take on many different looks
And now I'm gone, home again
The time has come the walrus said
And little oysters hide their head
My Twain of thought is loosely bound
I guess it's time to Mark this down