Continuation of Journal 3 11_2_22
Continuing on through the body of work. Hoping for something of redeeming value.
On Sacrifice are Built
Calling and waiting,
arise and cease.
Sinning and forgiving.
Control not, but release.
Speaking and listening.
Desire and fulfill.
Longing and letting go.
Devotion’s flame burns still.
Leaving and arriving.
“Good mornings” and “goodnights”.
Love will live as long,
as there is sacrifice.
Love is a living breathing thing.
This, I bid you know.
The greatest sacrifice in love,
is loving and letting go.
I have a secret,
a thought through prayer I’ve won.
If you cease to sacrifice,
your love will come undone.
Sacrifice to the relationship.
Homage paid to love.
Know ye this, life and love,
of sacrifice are wove.
Know ye this, life and love,
of sacrifice are wove.
PrOphET
Expectation is a powerful force.
If everyone would pray just a little.
Give just a little.
Change just a little.
God would have mercy on our souls.
Lord give me peace within,
and peace without.
and let there be a whole new world.
Don’t shoot your gun,
until you can see
the whites in their eyes.
I can’t control my weirdness.
I say a lot of things
I am not aware of.
Will I become a grumpy old man?
It’s hard to be a warrior,
when your like a flower petal inside.
It’s 1996, and I’m having a bad hair year.
I pray Dear Lord,
help me through.
Yesterday was Christmas,
and I almost lost my mind.
New Years 1996
I’ve always tried
to be peaceful,
nice,
polite,
and kind.
Placating,
peacemaking,
going the extra mile,
trying to be a Saint.
Then last week,
over Christmas,
I began to see,
in many relationships,
I was giving too much.
I, the faithful servant, slave.
Beckoned to serve everyone,
the aged and young alike,
and receiving insults in return.
Letting myself be assigned
tasks with no end.
Difficult and painful tasks.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
Receiving condemnation
instead of wages.
Pushed into servitude
for years and years.
And then, this Christmas,
I could bear no more.
I shouted, I cried,
gave speeches
at the dinner table.
“From deep within”, I explained,
“a change is coming over me”.
“I can bear this bondage no longer”, I cried.
“And must yield to the power
of this transformation”,
“or herein, I will be destroyed”.
The young brave
is beckoned to become
a Shaman.
This call he heeds.
Chastened as a beloved son,
tried,
transfigured,
transformed.
A new day dawns,
after a long, dark night.
A new life is born.
And then,
a Healer to be,
and now perhaps,
A Healer is He.
A Prayer
The taste of lipstick
from her lips.
The scent of perfume,
rising from tender breasts.
The feel of smooth satin,
over soft thighs.
Darkness,
warm moist breathing.
Touch,
calling to excitement,
ascending threshold of pleasure.
Quaking light,
release,
pleasure,
peace.
A moments rest.
A prayer.
Sanctify the Path
Nurture the sacred nucleus.
Family, a road to paradise.
Separate, creative work.
Learning humility.
Being each others guardian.
Sanctify the path.
Honesty, without malice.
Walking in traditions and strengths.
Just a couple of hippies,
in these new olden days.
What Answering the Lord’s Call Has Been to Me
First, it was abandoning
the voice of authority.
Loosing myself in drugs, sex,
and wandering.
Run down, hit,
and left in the ditch to die
far away from home.
It was surrendering my sanity,
to enter new dimesions.
And loosing the favor
and trust of my family.
All my friends abandoned me,
I had gone over the edge.
Giving away all my money,
and losing all my material possessions.
Then it was losing my freedom,
to live in the asylums for years.
Losing my physical health,
because of medications
I was forced to take by syringe.
Beatings,
hosings,
Ceaseless prayer.
Uncontrollable nosebleed,
dripping in my dinner plate.
Reading the Bible,
Learning to pray.
There were hundreds of days
of fastings
against
dark spells, and sex magic.
No food,
nor drink.
Sleepless nights,
penitential labors,
loneliness and cold.
Years of painful celibacy.
Listening and learning
from monks and ministers.
Learning to create.
Being labeled insane,
with friends and neighbors
fearing me.
Facing the end of the world,
alone.
Hundreds of mile from home.
Straight jackets, straight sheets,
Homicidal wardmates.
Supernatural, demonic, realties.
Learning to experience God,
with neither drugs, nor drink.
Eventually to trust authority.
To prosper in poverty.
to choose good,
not evil.
To have confidence
in uncertainty.
Self discipline.
To seek knowledge.
To find peace,
and joy,
and Hope.
And finally,
to share the great blessings
given me.
You are My Garden
Your life is a fruit tree
in my garden.
A garden given to me.
A garden I did not plant.
I water you with kindness,
and respect.
Nourish you with friendship.
Trim you
with a gentle guiding hand.
The sunshine of my love
quickens you.
I send my birds
to devour the hungry worms
of worry and fear.
And lambs consume
the weeds of hatred and anger
from where you grow.
Springtime blossoms
dispel ignorance.
Their fragrance is true love.
The branches of friendship
steadily growing.
Fruits of virtue
shall hang heavy
from your limbs.
And from these fruits,
the seeds of salvation
shall be spread afar.
Yes, I am a tree in your garden.
I give my life to you, Lord.
In this garden
of your creation.
In this life
you’ve given me.
Waiting and Anticipating
Crush the alabaster jar.
Let the oil flow.
Love is the only healer.
I have nothing to hide.
And nothing to fear.
For my life is pure.
It is my hearts desire
to bring others
their hearts desire.
To bless, heal, and teach.
One looks within.
and begins at home.
The hand of God
reaches toward me,
and I say, “here I am Lord”.
Papas been dead thirty years.
Uncle Billy lies old and ill.
I glance at the clock.
The dripping of water in the sink,
The refrigerator humming.
Beef bones boil on the stove.
From my peace of mind,
and joy of spirit,
I wonder,
will I see the day of resurrection?
One candle burns before me.
One star shimmers above.
God lives within my being.
Within my heart,
I hold great love.
and He is present now.
Exalt this life,
cover me with salt and light.
Direct me Heavenward please.
To carry light,
through time and space.
I push back the veils of darkness.
You are hero.
You are healer.
You are here.
He is love.
And love, in it’s many forms,
is the only one.
Crush the alabaster jar.
Let the oil flow.
Today Lord, let it be.
The bones are boiling clean.
I wait to add the vegetables.
Tonight, we shall dine late.
Thoughts
I forget how tender
your lips are,
in the days
that were apart.
Don’t look upon
the filth and greed
of this world.
For it would
crush your spirit
and break
your heart.
Rather,
look upon the beauty
and perfection
of the holy,
and the pure.
A great teacher said
“the spirit of Jesus
lives within
the quietest chamber
of my heart”.
Let us follow
the law
of love.
Stairs to Heaven
Joyful,
Elated,
Enchanted,
Brilliant,
Delighted,
Peaceful.
Heaven,
Rapturous,
Ecstatic,
Blissful,
Paradise,
Eden.
If I could give unto thee
but one precious gem,
it would be a prayer life.
Yea,
unto thee I would bring,
a life of prayer.
A Man
To be songs,
sung in the evening.
With friends,
and guitars.
In the mountains,
by the water,
after supper,
as the sun is setting.
And the bonfire is being lit.
The crackle of kindling leaping to flame.
Whitefish jumping,
on the still lake.
To be love
for my Mom and Dad,
family and friends.
Full of light, life and force.
Sweeping them into well being,
through whom I have become,
A song of joy
reverberating
in these hearts.
To become a living anthem.
A banner.
A battle cry.
To touch lives,
and children’s souls,
like Jesus did.
Sun setting on the water.
Mellow with wine.
The bird songs of evening
used to be so beautiful.
Tune the instruments.
Find your center.
Sounds are carried across
the calm lake
and into the woods.
Tonight we transport souls,
to the shores of peace and joy.
I desire to fly like an eagle.
To shine like the sun.
Twinkle like a star.
Rise like the tide.
Intoxicate like true friendship.
Because,
because,
because,
I Love You!
Nesting Grounds Destroyed
The birds of summer mornings
sing no more.
Because the woods
have been destroyed.
Their wintering grounds
in the tropics
eliminated.
So then I wish to sing
for these birds
who have died.
In the place of
the virees,
the vireos,
thrushes,
and the white throated sparrows
that are gone.
How can I sing in reverent joy,
as they did?
For they were my best friends,
and are forever lost.
Victims
of the great machine.
Proverbs of Easter Sunday 1996
Good Deeds as Weapons:
One can fight against mankind’s greed and avarice by diligently persevering in good deeds. A man who cannot fast, make long prayers, or give large sums, can sanctify himself with acts of kindness and charity. Good deeds.
Manners and Children:
Manners are a language. Children should be taught good manners, and taught to use the good manners shown them. Good manners build harmony through respect. Bad manners create hatred and confusion. Manners are taught by example, as well as by instruction and correction. Bad manners say, “there are problems”.
On Physicians:
Physicians in this age often cause great unnecessary suffering. Some of the psychiatrists I’ve had to deal with have been proud and closed minded. There are however, in complete honesty, great and gifted healers.
On Spiritual Victory:
On the day of the final victory, all the Universes evil will be reduced to a cold blue flame. A quiet and eternal votive.
On Music:
Music can fill the soul with health and elation.
My Darling:
My darling was prettiest just after sex, when her cheeks would glow, and the sun was rising.
For Spies:
An intelligence agent should always carry a mirror, a secret weapon, and a reader. He should wear a trench coat. Also, he should pray to Saint Anne.
The Will of God:
Sometimes the will of God will have you walk in a way that you would not choose for yourself. There are many spiritual voices. But one, though almost silent, is also great and terrible.
Beyond all Religion:
There is a way that goes beyond all religion. It is the way of light. One remains in divine communion.
One learns not to pull and twist at the energy fields of others. Also a man learns to keep his own energy field whole and strong, not letting people or circumstances weaken him.
The Snake:
If the rattle snake is a symbol of life, the true leader is either the rattles, or the fangs.
The Sea;
The sea is said to be a lady because of it’s many moods. The sea can be kind and generous, or a life threatening adversary.
It Seems
A slightly antagonistic psychiatrist asked me if I believe I have magical powers. I didn’t know how to respond. My prayers seem to bear upon reality, and lead me to do good deeds. Good deeds alter reality, certainly.
My breathing and meditating, invocations and blessings seem to have a positive effect. My curses seem to have power.
Yes it does seem to me that I have spiritual powers. Yes then, I do believe that I live in a magical realm. And spiritual powers possess.
Fishing
What a good deal fishing is.
Just cast your lines, its free.
The gift of plentiful nature.
The bounty of the sea.
Fish, they cost not a penny.
Just cast your line, and abide.
Fill your stringer with many,
as free as the flowing tide.
Just buy a plane trip for three hundred.
Then rent and pick up a car.
Spend forty two more for a license,
and you’re a fishing star.
Then take a good rod, and a good reel,
and grab your tackle and gear.
Ask at the bait and tackle shop,
“where the fish bitin’ round here”?
And while you’re at the bait shop,
buy hooks, lures, sinkers and bait.
(Just in case you’re running short).
To the shore now, I can’t wait!
The cooler is full of cold drinks and food,
with a few bags of ice.
My heart is full of gratitude,
for all’s free in Paradise.
Oh, if you use a boat,
there’s a license, upkeep and fuel.
And the fish are free, or so they wrote,
in the myth of the fishin’ fool.
Now we’re stringing up the rod,
the trusty fishing pole.
And thank the mighty fishing God,
for good luck, and a thick bank roll.
So I spend a great big buck,
to sit here by the sea.
And hope for a little fishing luck.
And I’m glad that fish are free.
Yes, in pursuit of nature’s prize.
Fish, the bounty of the sea.
I say pound foolish, pennywise,
the fish are yours for free.
These fish we quest for heartily.
My notion now retold.
Though not costing a penny,
are worth their weight in gold.
These fish we quest for heartily.
My notion now retold.
Though not costing a penny,
are worth their weight in gold.
Perhaps
We are but water,
dust,
air,
light,
and spirit.
What is water returns to water.
What is dust returns to dust.
What is air returns to air.
What is light returns to light.
And what is Spirit returns to Spirit.
Evil returns to evil.
Good returns to good.
The Answer
Red
to Orange
Orange
to Green
to Blue
to White
to White
A tiny feather from the duster
hangs from the crystal chandelier.
Prayer,
my Son, my Daughter,
Prayer.
Discipline,
Charity,
Labor,
Honesty.
These are the tools you’ll need.
Now go on.
Go on now,
my Son, My daughter,
Save the world.
GONE FISHIN”
Ghost Horses
He lets out His horses
on windy nights,
and rides across the sky.
Steeds of power,
mystery and might,
upon the clouds they fly.
Stallions stampeding,
lightening striking,
below, the earth a quaking.
Deep in dark crypts,
the Brotherhood prays,
a dark day on earth is breaking.
Ghost horses storming,
brilliant flashes,
Chariots of God on high.
For truth men battle.
Thunder crashes.
On earth men fight and die.
“For freedom”,
cry the soldiers brave,
as they rush the enemy.
Fighting victoriously
‘gainst wave after wave,
the force of adversity.
In deep,
dark,
chambers,
below,
candle light flickers
on stone cold walls.
The brothers are chanting,
with one voice incanting,
as the force of the enemy falls
“Shambala shambala.
Sheerila doom.
Bashala pashala.
Lamala boom.
Eerilee deerilee.
Keento kool la.
Damala kunta
Kundala ka.
Poorila montay.
Gondala kune.
Dunee toor pinte.
Keerila lune.
Munde te lamala.
Gasha la geen.
Neneta sheero.
Donna lo feen.
And I the scribe,
sitting high,
in the tower of stone,
writing of all I see.
Ghost horses,
armies,
the Brotherhood’s prayer.
And I writing faithfully.
“Shambala shambala.
Sheerila doom.
Bashala pashala.
Lamala boom.
Eerilee deerilee.
Keento kool la.
Damala kunta
Kundala ka.
Poorila montay.
Gondala kune.
Dunee toor pinte.
Keerila lune.
Munde te lamala.
Gasha la geen.
Neneta sheero.
Donna lo feen.
Learning – Mentoring
I’d always believed that success, in any vocation, would lead to fame, fortune and friends.
I’d always desired to become a holy man, flying around the world in a jet, and performing miracles
before the millions.
Only now do I realize that success as a holy man could mean peace, and happiness, perhaps persecution, and nothing more. No worldly gain.
In a college psych. course, I learned that if it seems that others are stealing your energy, it means that your heart chakra is yet unintegrated.
This can be said in other words. A saint, or one who is truly whole, and full of love is not hesitant to let his world feed upon his energies, or let others draw energy from body and mind as if he were a source of electricity. Even though this may mean sacrificing vibrancy or artistic excellence.
As a nursing mother nourishes her infant from her breasts, and fulfills a life purpose in doing so, so will he, who is spiritually mature willingly and lovingly let his world feed upon his life energies. Even though it may cause pain.
We teach truth by what we do and say. Letting others draw upon one’s life energies is ultimately part of shepherding, mentoring, mothering and fathering, in this world.
Greed
Greed,
working to divide
even the closest of families,
causes me great sorrow.
Greed,
destroys friendships,
and churches,
causing strife
between neighbors.
I glimpse this reality,
and feel ill.
Healthy Releases
Learning to live
is learning to take
healthy releases.
Exercise,
Prayer,
Music,
Art,
Writing,
Fishing,
Hunting,
Camping,
Crafts,
Conversation,
Cooking,
Study.
These are some healthy releases.
Drinking,
Drugs,
Unhealthy relationships,
Too much TV.
Over eating.
These are some unhealthy releases.
We all need to escape ourselves.
But must learn healthy ways to do so.
Meditation,
rather than drugs.
Music,
rather than bars.
Prayer,
rather than outbursts.
Yes,
learning to live
is learning healthy releases.
Greatness is: To Dad and Jan
I had a meaningful dialogue going on with Dad for decades. Jan was my counselor for many years. We covered fertile ground there as well. We defined greatness.
The wisdom of the sage.
The knowledge of the scholar.
The courage of the hero.
The holiness of the saint.
The charisma of the leader.
The little guy faithful to his call.
Greatness exists in you.
You may never be acknowledged, or rewarded in this world.
But I want you to know,
I know that you are great.
Being There
Being a God fearing soul
means being there for others.
Part of fellowship with God,
is fellowship with men.
We must be there,
emotionally, physically,
with one’s resources and time.
Sharing in all ways,
this experience
we call Life.
Fighting Evil
Let me create context here. I’d been through the accident. This was followed by several years on the wards. Now I was in college, in a small apartment on the West Side. My source of income was SSI, a sub poverty allowance. I really thought I was doing a great thing. I was a pauper on a pittance, attempting to show greatness. And believing that fame and fortune were just days away. I was in poverty, and didn’t even know it. This gives a good picture of who I was, reeking of mental illness, and striving for a place in this world.
I stand against greed.
Yes,
both greed and pride.
By sharing, and charity.
and forgiving those
who act unfairly.
Perhaps,
it’s best not to let another sin,
by taking too much from me.
I’ve been battling sin
in this world,
by completing long lists of good deeds.
Random acts of kindness.
Senseless acts of love.
I’ve been battling evil in this world,
by being steady and faithful,
as a friend, son and brother.
and by being constant in prayer,
worshipping God,
seven times a day,
every day.
This list of good deeds
goes on and on.
Sending music to Justin.
Pumpkin seeds and almonds to Dad.
Bones to Sandy’s dog.
Artwork to Anna.
A catalogue to Judy.
Visiting the sick at the state hospital.
Sending a coat to Dennis.
Music tapes to Robbyn.
A letter to Rose.
Color markers to Aunt Jen.
Rocks and fishing photos to J.J.
Tulip bulbs to Neva.
and there are many more things on this list yet to do.
However,
this generosity is not automatic.
Each deed,
each act of love,
is a conscious,
and deliberate decision.
A decision
to fight greed and pride.
A decision
to glorify God.
Growing Up
When I was young,
I believed,
that if I fasted and prayed enough,
that evil would cease to be.
But now I see
that evil on earth will be,
until the Kingdom comes.
I say to myself
“I have failed”.
“I will never succeed”.
But in total truth,
I know my sacrifice.
has helped
to establish good in this world,
if only
a little a little bit.
But beyond this,
I am establishing my own salvation.
establishing my place,
in the next world.
Yes realizing the depth
of man’s greed and pride,
has caused me
great sorrow.
But now,
I must go
beyond this realization,
and find my joy again.
Thoughts
I honestly
don’t see myself
as handicapped
by schizophrenia.
Though I carry this diagnosis.
I look at myself
as needing
to accomplish
as much as possible,
every day.
I often oversleep, severely.
And this oversleeping
leaves me feeling
guilty and depressed.
I stand
in despair
over the sinful nature
of man.
My own
sinful tendencies,
as well.
Thoughts
It’s good to listen
to advice from others.
But because one’s advisors,
counselors, parents, friends,
may not be aware
of your insights,
dreams,and visions,
One ultimately
has to decide
for himself.
Thoughts
Success,
as a holy man
does not then guarantee happiness,
either.
I sense
the tears of compunction
of which Thomas Kempis wrote
in his book
The Imitation of Christ.
Nature’s Song
Crickets chirping,
Cicadas keeping rhythm.
Song birds, elation.
Frogs and toads.
Whales
and wolves.
Then mountains,
great trees,
and flowers,
joining the celebration.
Percussion
of the thunder.
Wind whispering
in the trees.
Waves upon the waters.
The little talking brooks.
Raindrops ringing
on the still waters
of the lake.
The eagles cry.
All of nature,
music,
song.
Proverb
A man is successful,
perfected,
only in completely atoning
for his sins.
Proverb
We are a people
gravely in need of guidance.
All men need to worship God daily,
in their own certain way.
And learn to deliberately show love
to our neighbors, sisters, and brothers.
Conversation
I was speaking to two young men. They said it was time for a social purge, bloodletting, a violent revolution. That anarchy was only answer.
I remembered when I thought the same, as a prisoner in an asylum, in a land supposed to be free.
But by the grace of God, I set about purifying myself, instead of seeking to purify the world through violence.
I was moved to speak to these young men. I said, “the first frontier needing to be conquered is the inner frontier”. “The first world needing to be purified is a man’s internal world”.
“Pray or meditate”, I said. “Fast, read the Bible, or inspirational literature. Walk in the woods”.
I continued, “succeed in purifying your own mind, body and soul, and you will see that there is no need for violent purge, or bloody revolution”.
“Yes, create a world of purity and peace within yourself, and you will then see that there is no longer reason to destroy the world”.
“The foundation of the next world is laid upon how you think, speak, and act today”.
As I said “goodbye” to these to these young men, there was a faint glimmer of understanding in their eyes. I pray one day they will see.
Robbie
There is another version of this story in an earlier place in this journal. But because it makes such a crucially important point, I am going to share it again.
When I was in an asylum, I had a ward mate named Robbie. She was a beautiful, albeit sometimes silly, black girl. I should say African American. She had a brain tumor. The brain tumor caused her to act strangely, I was told. Though she always seemed ok to me. We became good friends.
Her room was on one unit, my room on another. The units were separated at night by a locked door. One night, in the wee hours, someone came into my room and awakened me. It was Robbie. “Move over “she said, as she crawled under my covers and cuddled next to me. For several moments we held each other in a warm and loving embrace. Then I kissed her mouth.
Fire stirred within me. Passions began to rise. Then Robbie spoke. “Tomorrow”, she said, “they’re sending you to the State Hospital. I’ll probably never see you again. I came to say I love you. I came to say goodbye”.
I kissed her again. I wanted to make love. “Michael”, she said,” let’s not”. “Tomorrow you’re going away. Keep your soul clean. Because if your soul is pure, no true harm came to you”. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.
In the morning when I awoke, she was gone.
After breakfast I was given street clothes. I was shipped to the State Hospital in chains, with a guard on each arm. The next few weeks were hell.
Hypodermic syringes full of mind altering drugs. Fascist psychiatrists and their hench men. True demon poltergeists.
But I survived it. I grew through it. I am not only unharmed, but a better person for it.
But I want to say something. I need to say something. Robbie, wherever you are, my soul is clean, I am well, I love you.
Amen
For each individual,
man or woman,
young or old,
salvation
comes first.
Salvation can be understood as
creating,
and maintaining
an oracle.
An oracle
is likened to
a sphere of light,
a sunlike glowing soul.
Success,
in this world
reflects
the creation of
a living and continuing
oracle.
Eternal life,
Sainthood,
in this life
is to live and die
with a brilliant oracle,
fully intact.
“Keep ye first the Kingdom,
and all things
will be added”
is another way of saying
“be faithful to your oracle,
and great blessings will follow”.
The Bible
is a ‘how to’ book,
telling how to create
this inner brilliancy.
Looking inward,
we pray, meditate, and abstain.
Looking up,
we praise God.
Looking out ward,
we love our neighbor.
We labor
to discern
a moderate,
yet holy path.
It is said,
that this reality
is illusion.
The material world,
the physical plane,
exists to give
our infantile souls
a grasp
on the forces
that constitute
reality.
A brilliant oracle
passes through all barriers,
overcomes all adversaries,
answers all questions.
The one and only,
the singular purpose
of life,
for all humankind,
is the creation of this oracle.
However,
this task
is accomplished
in many different ways.
Some use prayer,
some work or study,
There are many different combinations.
The key is constancy.
But moderation
always remains important.
Exercise and nourish
the body.
Feed the mind.
Strengthen and purify
the spirit.
And always remember
That friendships
with like souls,
are good for all.
Amen.
I’ve defined the word “oracle” here. Perhaps the words “aura’ or “soul “could be used in its place.
Complaint
I have no idea why I complained about work. Work was my salvation. It ceased to be a burden, and became a real blessing as I negotiated fair pay. I was taking on cleaning and gardening. It took a while to get my wages up to where they needed to be. That accomplished, an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work was inarguably, a true blessing.
I have a little grievance,
though I don’t like to complain.
My name’s not “Michael, here’s a chore”.
It’s really Mike McLean.
It’s only a little fault.
Yes, this is my complaint.
My name is really Michael.
“Michael here’s a job “it aint.
Yes, here’s a little problem,
though I hate to grieve.
Call me “Brother Michael”,
not, “give this load a heave”.
Yes, my name is Michael.
I was, I will, I am.
So take your thankless burdens.
get lost, get gone, and scram!
You may not think this funny.
But I’m really not your slave.
I’ll work for honest money,
but don’t drive me to my grave.
So if you will, please call me “Mike”.
Yes, this is all I ask.
My name again is “Mike McLean”
Not “Michael, here’s a task”.
Yes, this is a problem,
a nasty little quirk.
Call me by my Christian name,
not “Michael here’s more work”.
I’m only asking for respect,
as son or friend or brother.
Please treat me with the courtesy
you’d show to any other.
And though I love you dearly.
Oh, you know I love to please.
In the name of love and kindness,
please don’t drive me to my knees.
Yes, Mr. Michael is my name.
Mr. Mike will do.
Not “here’s another grievous chore”.
Though I’d love to favor you.
So please now everybody,
and this is what I need.
My name is “Mike”, “McMike” will do.
Not “Please, just one more deed”.
Yes, here now is my charge,
though I don’t like to complain.
My name’s not “Michael, here’s a job”,
it’s really” Mike McLean”.
My name’s not “Michael, here’s a job”,
it’s really” Mike McLean”.
