The Story of the Raven and the Mushroom Man

Later in the day
When the earth turned away
I found a little book
Nearly blended in the grey
But for it's flower -
Drawn like a child's on the cover!
It was the story of the Raven
And the Mushroom Man
He was the first real friend he ever had

I never want to be
Like that seriuous man
Telling himself be a serious!
Always counting those numbers!
He's got a red face
And a mushroom head
He's spent too long in the rat tace
Too long in the dead days

If only a Raven with a sore wing
Could fall at his feet
With eyes full of mercy
The little Mushroom Man might fashion
A little splint out of driftwood
And he might feel a little light shine
He might see his own kindness
And think that
'Maybe counting isn't everything!
Maybe there are more ravens
Who need me more than numbers?'

The Mushroom man loved the Raven so
And deep inside his heart
Grew a thing called Hope
On Sunday night
The Raven was weak
He didn't wake up
How the Mushroom Man weeped!
It caused his planet to leak!

Well, he buried his friend
And he buried his books
He looked out to space
And his head jhe shook
As he looked down
A gasp escaped!
A sapling Rose
Grew from the Ravens grave!

From the Ravens grave
Hope had sprung!
And he knew then, how it had been done
As he'd tended the Ravens wing
A Seed of Hope had grown within!
And now it grows for all to see
And his planet is no longer just He