The real job

There will be those who tell you

To get a real job

They’ll scold you for your dreaming

So you become a snob

Forget your wildish nature

Enroll the karma mob

Parade you little outfits

The uniforms of sob

While sobbing on the inside

A night out on a club.

There will be those who call you

A misfit or a witch

They’ll wrap you up in plastic

Till you forget your switch

A hobo or a lady

A woman or a snitch

Till you forget your calling

So they will forget theirs

To entertain the stalling

While living in the ditch.

There will be those who urge you

To do the real thing

To entertain your calling

To make your offering

They’ll guide you through your darkness

Inspire you to learn

To overcome the heartless

The dreamless and the blue

To nurture the unmothered

The real job is you.