As the moon rose and the hour grew late
The day-help on the coconut estate
Raked up the dried leaves that fell dead from the trees
Which they burned in a pile by the lake

The beetle king summoned his men
And from the top of the rhododendron stem,
“Calling all volunteers who can carry back here
The Great Mystery has been lit once again”

One beetle emerged from the crowd
In a fashionable abdomen shroud
Said, “I’m a professor, you see, that’s no mystery to me
I’ll be back soon, successful and proud”

But when the beetle professor returned,
He crawled on all six, as his wings had been burned
And described to the finest detail all he’d learned
There was neither a light, nor a heat, in his words

The deeply dissatisfied king
Climbed the same stem to announce the same thing
But in his second appeal sought to sweeten the deal
With a silver padparadscha ring

The lieutenant stepped out from the line
As he lassoed his thorax with twine
Thinking, “I’m stronger and braver and I’ll earn the king’s favor
One day all he has will be mine”

But for all the lieutenant’s conceit
He too returned singed and admitting defeat
“I had no choice, please believe, but retreat
It was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat

And it cracked like the thunder and bloodshot my eyes
Though smothered with sticks, it advanced undeterred
Carelessly cast an ash cloud to the sky, my lord
Like a flock of dark vanishing birds”

The beetle king slammed down his fist
“Your flowery description’s no better than his!
We sent for the great light and you bring us this?
We didn’t ask what it seems like, we asked what it is!”

His majesty’s hour at last is drawn nigh
The elegant queen took her leave from his side
Without understanding, but without asking why
She gathered their kids to come bid their goodbyes

And the father explained, “You’ve been somewhat deceived
You’ve all called me your dad, but your true Dad’s not me
I lay next to your mom and your forms were conceived
Your Father’s the light within all that you see

He fills up the ponds as He empties the clouds
Holds without hands and He speaks without sounds
He provides us with the cow’s waste and coconuts to eat
Giving one that nice salt taste, and the other its sweet

Sends the black carriage the day death shows its face
Thinning our numbers with kindness and grace
And just as a flower and its fragrance are one
So must each of you and your Father become

Now distribute my scepter, my crown, and my throne
And all we’ve known as wealth to the poor and alone”
Without further hesitation, without looking back home
The king flew headlong into the blazing unknown

And as the smoke ring hurled higher and higher
The troops flying loops around the telephone wires
They said, “Our beloved’s not dead, but his highness instead
Has been utterly changed into fire”

Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?

/*—————–// //—————–*/
What do you think about this song? What do you think it’s about?

Once the Germans in their hordes came to the rich margin of Rome; and they cam timidly, saying we have been driven give us land. And the Romans armed the frontier and built forts against the hordes of need. And the legions patrolled the borders, cased in metal, armed with the best steel.

And the barbarians came, naked, across the boarder, humbly, humbly. They received the swords in their breasts and marched on; and their dead bore down the swords and the barbarians marched on and took the land. And they were driven by their need, and they conquered with their need. In battle the women fought in line, and the yellow-haired children lay in the grass with knives to hamstring the legionaries, to snick through the hamstrings of the horses. But the legion had no needs, no wills, no force.

And the best trained, best armed troops in the world went down before the hordes of need.

~John Steinbeck