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The Texts - John Constable

Then Again

It's like this. It's like that.

It's Schrödinger's cat.

It takes root in pleasure and pain.

The players may change

But the prize-winning play

Comes around again and again.



It's a howl. It's a bark.

It's a cry in the dark.

It's a lover shut out in the rain.

The singer may change

But that old sad song

Comes around again and again.



It's got flesh, it's got bone

And a mind of its own,

Though it isn't confined to a brain.

The thinker may change

But the same strange thoughts

Come around again and again.



It's got teeth, it's got claws

And it's own natural laws,

And no matter how much you complain.

The jungle may change

But the same clever monkeys

Come around again and again.



When we hit the Big Sky

Our thoughts a-gonna fly.

Until then they hobble in vain.

The teller may change

But the same old story

Comes around again and again.

 
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