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Philologos
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Joined: 21 Jan 2010
Age: 77
Gender: Male
Posts: 6,987

22 Jun 2010, 1:36 am

I was reviewing some lyrics I did up for the use of Number 1 Son's music projects tonight, and ran across this which, as far as I know, he has not worked on as yet. It was written well before I put two and two together on my vafrious traits - reviewing it now, I thought I might throw it out as a comment on the experience of speaking nothing but Laputan in an Anglic environment.

Note - the second segment refers directly to what I have since concluded must have been an attempt [never explained to me] to decide was I autistic or just strange.

COGNITIVE DISSONANCE

How can a man own a tree? - he said, with a puzzled look on his face -
Don't you understand, trees grow on the land,
And the land is the clan's, not just one man's;
He can't cut it down because he think's it's trash,
He can't sell it and spend the cash;
A tree isn't personal property, it belongs to the family's space.

How can a man own a tree? It's a mystery, you have to agree.
I can't understand why they can't understand
What's so perfectly clear to me.

Tell me the stories in the pictures - she said, notebook and pen in her hand -
Why is the girl standing chewing on her curl,
What is the boy going to do with his toy,
What is the dad writing in his daytime planner,
Why is the mom not waving her banner?
But there are no stories there, and why should she care? I really don't understand.

How can a man own a tree? It's a mystery, you have to agree.
I can't understand why they can't understand
What's so perfectly clear to me.

How can they eat those worms? - he said, in a horrified tone of voice -
I'm telling you, I've seen them eat them alive,
And they even grin as the creature goes in.
We can eat oysters and escargot,
And whale blubber gratifies the Eskimo,
But eating a worm's not the kind of thing a sane adult does by choice.

How can a man own a tree? It's a mystery, you have to agree.
I can't understand why they can't understand
What's so perfectly clear to me.

Communication is a two way street;
Sometimes traffic flows, and when it does, that's neat.
But often it gets snarled up, all they understand
Is the messages you send with your upraised hand.

How can you sit there and read? - she said, in a voice both angry and sad -
The fish are biting and life's exciting,
There's a party down the block, and it's going to rock,
But you're sitting in the rocker with a book in your hand,
When I say you need exercise you don't understand,
And it's easy to see why your friends all say you are just a little bit mad.

How can a man own a tree? It's a mystery, you have to agree.
I can't understand why they can't understand
What's so perfectly clear to me.