Friday, April 17, 2009

Potatoes in my basket and all things lively.

I don't know what I'm doing
And I think I never do
But the things that keep me going
Seem to have a lot to do with you
And if I see no reason, then I often see a rhyme
That's what keeps me singing
Till the end of time

I say!

There are potatoes in my basket and I don't know how they got there
And though I never weighed them I could say they're getting heavier
If you think this has no meaning that's a lot of hot air
See, these people think I'm crazy but, en contraire
I guess I really like you
And that seems quite fair

I tried to study a lot and remember what I read
But it didn't really work out
And that's when people said
Well
No one really said anything, can I pretend?
I didn't really tell them so
I presume that it's my bad.

Hey!

There are potatoes in my basket and I don't know how they got there
And though I never counted them I think that we're one short
To be honest I don't know
Why I have a basket in the first place
All that the circumstances do say
Is that life convolutes a lot

One day you're an aeroplane
The other you are scrap
You may be worthy of the matador
Or just the Spanish snack
It boils down to the question that must surely be asked
Do prefer being skewered or having swords stuck in your ass?

Oi!

There are potatoes in my basket and I don't know how they got there
But some of these cranky tubers would sure like to
I'm as clueless as you are
When you wonder if you're at par
With everybody in the world and if there's anything that sets you apart?

Can you take a few decades out of your life to shoot to instant fame?
Can you sacrifice some of your brawn to gain a little brain?
Is it really true that we could be all the same?
Is it true that we are all the same
If you looked from far enough away?
We're just all same

There are potatoes in my basket and I can't tell them apart
Unless I look a little closer
And make a fresh start
At them
Again

It's so easy to forget it all and to watch you smile
Everything you do to me
Makes it worth the while
And this while will last forever
And I do not mind
Let me take you somewhere, touched not by time
And let's see what we find
In each other

Here I am singing a song
That changes its tune far too often
But there are lots of words that rhyme,
And it's all I have to offer
And it goes on for too long

Aye,

I don't how I got a basket-in-the-first-place
And I know that I make no sense
These are strange circumstances
But there are potatoes in my basket
And I don't know how they got there.

I wrote this at intervals of cheese popcorn, noodles, soan papdi and the movie Snatch. Which would answer your question: "What the fuck?"

4 comments:

sharath krishnaswami said...

one really good song. its been a long while since i saw a poem which sounded like a song. reminds me of my earlier work. good stuff.

obiwankenoby said...

dude!! u r good!!

(the awky gawky intro goes thus- i m ur bro Soumya's school buddy!!)

Shrutilaya said...

Hahaha. The poem/song's oddly cute.

Nice Blog = )

PurpleSky said...

Thanks guys, woot, I get comments on my blog!