For A Song

He was born in California 
A little fish in a puddle by the bay
Delivered by the stork one cold and foggy morning
Just two days shy of New Years day.

His mother was a tiny bird, his father was a cat
So he's two parts contradiction and one part diplomat

As a child he was a little league sensation
He had the knack, he had the arm
But ever since the night of the Liverpool invasion
His family knew they couldn't keep him on the farm

Seventeen and restless he longed to be all he could be
But he didn't join the army, he set sail for Honalee

Maybe wanderlust is only yearning
To find that place where you belong
And the joy is in the journey
How can that be wrong?       

He knew the odds, but our hero was relentless
And found his way into the belly of the beast
Where he got a job as a sorcerer's apprentice
Made friends with giants and studied at their feet

When suddenly his melody was heard around the world
And he took home the blue ribbon and he even got the girl

I know it sounds romantic 
To make your life following your dream
But it's a bumpy road through ecstasy and panic
And if you don't crash it's mostly somewhere in between

He's a poet, and a father, and a pauper, and a prince  
And he's probably a genius, but he's the last one you'll convince
And maybe wanderlust is only yearning
To find that place where we belong
And if the joy is in the journey
Well how can that be wrong?
When you do it for a song

He's a modern day Ponce De Leon

And he did it for a song

© 2015 Craig Carothers