Lost little beacon on the wide open ocean
Flashing in the darkness for no-one to see
Forlorn in the garden among terracotta broken
Sitting in a deckchair with a book on his knee
Grapes in the making with plenty for the taking
Adjacent to the ancient willow tree
Fox den yonder valley over by the chimney
Where grime washes all to see
Early in the morning the whistle will be calling
And the buoy will be further out from shore
Temple on the mountain with children singing shouting
The teacher is the archetype of all
Flashing in the darkness for no-one to see
Forlorn in the garden among terracotta broken
Sitting in a deckchair with a book on his knee
Grapes in the making with plenty for the taking
Adjacent to the ancient willow tree
Fox den yonder valley over by the chimney
Where grime washes all to see
Early in the morning the whistle will be calling
And the buoy will be further out from shore
Temple on the mountain with children singing shouting
The teacher is the archetype of all
