Les Barker - Chronology
no, this is the very last line.
I didn't know I was doing it, I did it unthinking for years.
It isn't until you look back, from a distance, a pattern appears.
I did everything in chronological order, you don't see at the time, you're immersed.
But all of the things I did later in life were done after the things I did first.
It's all in chronological order. It's frustrating, I got really vexed.
I'd like to do something sooner, or later, but everything comes out as next.
I'd like to do the next thing I do before something that's already done.
Or maybe finish a job a week before it's begun.
Then I'd be free as a bird. Then I'd be free of the curse.
And this didn't finish the verse, if this line didn't come third.
There! I broke the bonds of time, I shall treasure that brief second when
for one moment my then stood alongside your now and my now was long gone with your then.
I used to do things in chronological order, but that's not the case anymore.
Before just came after after, after before before.
Each moment was set by convention, a link in a chain hereby broken.
You can now hear each word that I say, but in they're not order the spoken.
Eight o'clock, eleven, five, four nine, one. My mind is constrained by no border.
Seven o'clock, six, ten, three, twelve, two. I count the hours in alphabetical order.
Make April the start of your year, and Wednesdays the end of your weeks.
Listen when you want to hear, don't wait 'till somebody speaks.
Don't live your life strictly in sequence, don't march to the chime of time's bell.
Don't wait 'till today to take action, make yesterday the day you rebel!
Life's fuller when time is fragmented, when the sequence of history varies.
It's easy to face Armageddon when it's followed by a week in the Canaries.
No more Chronological order, I move round my day by design
This is not the last line of the poem,
I didn't know I was doing it, I did it unthinking for years.
It isn't until you look back, from a distance, a pattern appears.
I did everything in chronological order, you don't see at the time, you're immersed.
But all of the things I did later in life were done after the things I did first.
It's all in chronological order. It's frustrating, I got really vexed.
I'd like to do something sooner, or later, but everything comes out as next.
I'd like to do the next thing I do before something that's already done.
Or maybe finish a job a week before it's begun.
Then I'd be free as a bird. Then I'd be free of the curse.
And this didn't finish the verse, if this line didn't come third.
There! I broke the bonds of time, I shall treasure that brief second when
for one moment my then stood alongside your now and my now was long gone with your then.
I used to do things in chronological order, but that's not the case anymore.
Before just came after after, after before before.
Each moment was set by convention, a link in a chain hereby broken.
You can now hear each word that I say, but in they're not order the spoken.
Eight o'clock, eleven, five, four nine, one. My mind is constrained by no border.
Seven o'clock, six, ten, three, twelve, two. I count the hours in alphabetical order.
Make April the start of your year, and Wednesdays the end of your weeks.
Listen when you want to hear, don't wait 'till somebody speaks.
Don't live your life strictly in sequence, don't march to the chime of time's bell.
Don't wait 'till today to take action, make yesterday the day you rebel!
Life's fuller when time is fragmented, when the sequence of history varies.
It's easy to face Armageddon when it's followed by a week in the Canaries.
No more Chronological order, I move round my day by design
This is not the last line of the poem,