To Each His Albatross
To each his albatross
Or so it seems
That fickle in our fast pursuits
We run from babe to grave, our boots
Are thin as gruel
The flavor of our dreams
How terribly familiar
Have these feathers now become
And in the water looking back
We see not two, but one
This noose around our neck now orange
As ageless as the sun
To each his albatross
It’s small surprise
That flattered by our favorite lies
We turn these heavy feathers into clever alibis
With riddles for the questioners
And rhymes to lead the lost
For each of us a mariner
With each of us a cross
This raven stone to bear alone
To each his albatross
