Jehtro Tull

Tundra



Short Arctic desert day ---
  and someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Look around every which way
  but I can"t see just where the footprints go.
Is it a casual disappearance? ---
  Plucked from the middle atmosphere
  like straw wind-blown.
No speck on the horizon ---
  no simple message scrawled
  upon the snow.

Unearthly visitation ---
  someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Hungry buzzard flier
  circling round and round
  rattling death"s tambourine.

Have to run it down the cold wire ---
  late insertion in tomorrow"s lost and found.
Should I spread out searching?
  But I"m a little thin upon the ground.

So I raise my lips to coax
  the last drop of brandy from the bottle.
Rest my feet and contemplate
  the mystery that"s haunting
  this Siberian space.

Show-shoes they bind me down ---
  I"m just one more parasite of the surface layer.
I begin to get the feeling
  I"ve been on this stage before
  and I"m the only player.

One more Arctic desert day ---
  another set of shoes out in the tundra snow.
I make my fade to white-out
  and you can"t see me where my footprints go.