I like to think it's a country far away
But honestly I really don't know,
Maybe it's here, or maybe it's there
Heck it just might be right next door.
So why I mention it, when I know so little
I'm sure that you're tempted to ask,
Well there's a tale to be told and be told it must
And upon myself I've taken that task.
In this country (if indeed a country it is
I confess even that's unclear),
Atop a very high, very snowy hill
There sat a very wise, very old seer.
It was a tradition in the surrounding lands
That a boy could never become a man,
Until he had journeyed to the top of that hill
And the seer had given him his life's plan.
There was one such boy who set out one day
To make that life-changing climb,
A boy he had been for a great many years
And now he thought it was finally time.
He packed his toothbrush and clean underwear
A T-shirt to suit every mood,
A shoelace, a duster, a bright pink pincushion
Sparing not a thought for some food.
His trip was uneventful, three days as expected,
He arrived none the worse for the wear,
Although (for what reason he really couldn't say)
He felt like his middle was no longer there.
He lost no time finding the cave
Where the great seer was rumoured to sit,
Surprisingly for one not particularly bright
He found it in an hour and a minute.
He ducked in the cave and then for a while
Was invisible to the rest of the world,
When he came out, you could see without a doubt
That a smile of knowing on his lips was curled.
He made down the hill in less than two days
Apparently eager to get started,
On the rest of his life, the object of which
The seer had secretly imparted.
Back at his house he didn't wait long
He was antsy as anyone can be,
He packed up his bags and struck a fine pose
Said "Mother, I'm going to the sea!"
The sea wasn't far, just thirty miles off,
He walked there in less than a day,
But once he'd got there and rested a while
He began behaving in the most peculiar way.
He spent all his time skirting the shore
Talking to the creatures of the sea,
If he could hitch a ride out on some fishing boat
He'd continue his conversation in the deep.
He went on like this for many a day
His cheer growing less and then less,
Until one day he jumped up and down pointing
And shouting "A porpoise! A porpoise!"
It turned out that it was actually a dolphin
Who addressed him in terms the basest,
For he was offended, quite understandably and said
"Sir! You are abominably racist!"
Time wore on and and the boy seemed to get
Quieter and progressively more depressed,
Until the most animation he showed was to look up
And say " It's only a dolphin." at best.
Strange behaviour, it's often been seen
Goes unnoticed for only so long,
Sure enough he was soon asked to explain himself
By a crowd, some thirty people strong.
With a deep sigh he realised that he
Had to give up his secret or beat it,
He consoled himself with the reflection that
Thirty people surely would never repeat it.
He launched into his tale of his upward journey
And the path that had clearly been shown him,
How he had come to the sea on that path
Leaving behind all who had known him.
With another sigh the boy reminded them all
How it must never be repeated, that great truth,
And how he knew he could trust them, one and all
Not to betray that sayer of sooth.
"I'd walked in that cave when the seer he asked
'What intend you with your years to do?'
This I thought strange so in return I said
'Surely, that's why I've come here to you?'
He gave me a look and asked me again
'But have you no dreams, no goal?'
And when I said 'No' I was quite sure
That his eyes burned right through my soul!
This was when he gave me that advice
That sent me on my life's greatest quest,
That set me on the road you see me on now
Seeking sea life, Oh you know the rest!
What he said to me, simply was 'Son,
You must answer the universe's call,
You can't carry on with no end in mind
With no porpoise you've not lived at all.
But honestly I really don't know,
Maybe it's here, or maybe it's there
Heck it just might be right next door.
So why I mention it, when I know so little
I'm sure that you're tempted to ask,
Well there's a tale to be told and be told it must
And upon myself I've taken that task.
In this country (if indeed a country it is
I confess even that's unclear),
Atop a very high, very snowy hill
There sat a very wise, very old seer.
It was a tradition in the surrounding lands
That a boy could never become a man,
Until he had journeyed to the top of that hill
And the seer had given him his life's plan.
There was one such boy who set out one day
To make that life-changing climb,
A boy he had been for a great many years
And now he thought it was finally time.
He packed his toothbrush and clean underwear
A T-shirt to suit every mood,
A shoelace, a duster, a bright pink pincushion
Sparing not a thought for some food.
His trip was uneventful, three days as expected,
He arrived none the worse for the wear,
Although (for what reason he really couldn't say)
He felt like his middle was no longer there.
He lost no time finding the cave
Where the great seer was rumoured to sit,
Surprisingly for one not particularly bright
He found it in an hour and a minute.
He ducked in the cave and then for a while
Was invisible to the rest of the world,
When he came out, you could see without a doubt
That a smile of knowing on his lips was curled.
He made down the hill in less than two days
Apparently eager to get started,
On the rest of his life, the object of which
The seer had secretly imparted.
Back at his house he didn't wait long
He was antsy as anyone can be,
He packed up his bags and struck a fine pose
Said "Mother, I'm going to the sea!"
The sea wasn't far, just thirty miles off,
He walked there in less than a day,
But once he'd got there and rested a while
He began behaving in the most peculiar way.
He spent all his time skirting the shore
Talking to the creatures of the sea,
If he could hitch a ride out on some fishing boat
He'd continue his conversation in the deep.
He went on like this for many a day
His cheer growing less and then less,
Until one day he jumped up and down pointing
And shouting "A porpoise! A porpoise!"
It turned out that it was actually a dolphin
Who addressed him in terms the basest,
For he was offended, quite understandably and said
"Sir! You are abominably racist!"
Time wore on and and the boy seemed to get
Quieter and progressively more depressed,
Until the most animation he showed was to look up
And say " It's only a dolphin." at best.
Strange behaviour, it's often been seen
Goes unnoticed for only so long,
Sure enough he was soon asked to explain himself
By a crowd, some thirty people strong.
With a deep sigh he realised that he
Had to give up his secret or beat it,
He consoled himself with the reflection that
Thirty people surely would never repeat it.
He launched into his tale of his upward journey
And the path that had clearly been shown him,
How he had come to the sea on that path
Leaving behind all who had known him.
With another sigh the boy reminded them all
How it must never be repeated, that great truth,
And how he knew he could trust them, one and all
Not to betray that sayer of sooth.
"I'd walked in that cave when the seer he asked
'What intend you with your years to do?'
This I thought strange so in return I said
'Surely, that's why I've come here to you?'
He gave me a look and asked me again
'But have you no dreams, no goal?'
And when I said 'No' I was quite sure
That his eyes burned right through my soul!
This was when he gave me that advice
That sent me on my life's greatest quest,
That set me on the road you see me on now
Seeking sea life, Oh you know the rest!
What he said to me, simply was 'Son,
You must answer the universe's call,
You can't carry on with no end in mind
With no porpoise you've not lived at all.
