lentil soup

Andy told me what i needed to know

but when i tried to read his map,

i still couldn't go.

alcohol and drugs:

under the bed and under the rugs,

sent over by my own doctor

who left me for dead;

in my body and inside my head,

i opened the front door to

hear what he said.

i had an old mother

who came to my side:

"Remember when you were younger

and took a fine bride?"

but there was a chill in the air

so i ran out the door;

everyone kept crying

we'd soon be at war.

i stopped at the clinic.

God gave me a drink;

he was off to a funeral.

i went there to think:

there were scars on my face

and one near my heart.

i was a spy for the Gestapo,

but needed a new start.

i made lentil soup at four

with vegetable broth and ham

and served it to Rene

who knows just who i am!
a wizard at mathematics,

he tried his hand at dance.

i left him at communion

and took my cross into France
where i made a few sketches,
played some guitar,
and reached up for the moon
which didn't seem too far.