Album: Island (1991) <br />Lyrics: <br /> <br />So is every man. he is born in vanity and sin. <br />he comes into the world like morning mushrooms, <br />soon thrustling up their heads into the air, and conversing with <br />Their Kindred of the same production, <br />and as soon as they turn to dust and forgetfulness, <br />Some of them without any other interest in the affairs of the world, <br />but that They Made their parents a little glad and very sorrowful... <br /> <br />Ashes to ashes, dust to dust <br /> <br />Others ride longer in the storm, maybe until seven years of vanity be expired <br />And then, preadventure, the sun shines hot upon their heads, <br />and they fall into the shades below, into the cover of death and darkness and the grave to hide them. <br />But if the bubble stands the shock of a bigger drop, <br />and outlives the chance of a child or a careless nurse, <br />or drowning in a pail of water, or being overlaid by a sleepy servant, <br />or such little accidents, then the young man dances like a bubble, empty and gay, <br />and shines like a dove's neck, or the image of a rainbow, <br />which has no substance, and whose very imagery and colours are fantastical. <br />And so he dances out the gaiety of his youth, <br />and is all the while in a storm, <br />and endures only because he is not knocked on the head by a drop of bigger pain, <br />or crushed by the pressure of a load of undigested meat, <br />or quenched by the disorder of an ill-placed humour <br /> <br />Homer calls man a leaf, the smallest; <br />Pindar calls him the dream of a shadow, another, the dream of a shadow of smoke; <br />But St. James spake, by a more excellent spirit, saying our life is but a vapour, <br />That is to say, drawn from the air by a celestial influence, <br />made of smoke and the lighter parts of water, <br />tossed by the wind and moved by the motion of a superior body, <br />without virtue in itself and lifted up on high or left below, according as <br />It Pleases the demands of its foster fathers... <br /> <br />Ashes to ashes, dust to dust <br /> <br />In my mind is the sound <br />Of rudderless ships <br />A time, and a time <br />And a time <br />And a time <br />So much silence <br />Deafens our ears
