By James Strauss

Beat for the contretemps,
Make it your quarry,
For living good sense,
Is for the bored and the sorry.

Play to the stands,
Your bat’s only good,
For hitting at fans,
Cause time is like wood.

We’re sailing bad weather,
Our lives all a mess,
And we’re lying together,
We never confess.

Smile at the glory,
Of being a part,
Not having to worry,
The play’s at a start.

Move with great vigor,
Leaving behind,
Those things that are sad,
Those things left unkind.

Smile at your fortune,
Here with some friends,
Who give you a portion,
Of life’s odds and ends.

Audio Version