Still Songtext
von Peter Sinfield

Still, I wonder how it is to be a stream
From a dark well, constant flowing
Winding seawards over ancient mossy wheels
Yet feel no need of knowing

Still, I wonder how it is to be a tree
Circling serpent of the seasons
Only drink on sky and rake the winter wind
And need no seal of reasons

Still, I wonder why, I wonder why I′m here
All my words just the shaft of my pen
As I race over this beautiful sphere
Like a dog who is chasing his tailors and tinkers
Princes and inkers, sailors and sinkers
Before me and like me


Still, I've wondered how it is to be a bird
Singing each dawn′s sweet effusions
Flying far away and all the world astern
Yet seek no vain conclusions

Still, I wonder if I passed some time ago
As a bird, or a stream, or a tree
To mount up high but first to sink down low
Like the changeable tides of the Caesars and Pharaohs
Prophets and heroes, poets and hobos
Before me and after me

All the painters and dancers, mountainside chancers
Merchants and gamblers, bankers and ramblers
Winners and losers, angels and boozers
Beatles and Bolans, raindrops and oceans
Kings, pawns, and deacons, faint hearts and beacons
Caesars and Pharaohs, prophets and heroes
Poets and hobos, before me and after me