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ended up alone at the microphone

so, says neil. neil sounds sad,
he went to the radio interview.
and poor neil, well,
ended up alone at the microphone.

world is turning, I hope it don't turn away

and I am spinning on this song,
like string. and marbles rattle
the floorboards

yellow eyes, some deranged fellow
has yellow eyes. I float on
them and scream for the earth
that was and perfectly clear
I land on a silver-hair and truth
is
truth.

and the bus-stop has shrivelled to
a grave-marker and some ribbons
fly off, whip past my face; shrivelling
into the past dark.

so i am alone, and my microphone
is alone. and everything is.

the world is turning...I turn away,
into song; and sing the universe.

some lyrics harvested from Neil Youngs "On the Beach"