Pilot Light

Time followed me halfway to dark
Crossing a desert where I'd left my Austin-Healy parked
I'd been to the doctor, a man of renown
That's what the nurse told me, as I put on the gown

I wasn't feeling very good
At least not as good as I should

When he came in the room, the doctor said: "At first sight,
I'm not sure anything we can do would put you right
You've got your finger on the trigger and when I came in the door
I saw a chip on your shoulder that looks like a 2x4.
No there's not much I can do to put you right.
And I'm not even sure it's worth the fight.

But maybe it's just your pilot light, went out
Yes, maybe it's just your pilot light."

I wondered what else that doctor knew
But he waved his hands and said that we were through.
There was more I wanted to know about that pilot light
But I had no insurance, they made me go without a fight.
"I suggest you get on out of town," he said,
"Before the authorities have you put down," he said.

Like Eliot's patient, under a starry sky,
I was etherized and watched the lamplighters go by.
I knew right then what I had to do.
Give up pork and close myself on Saturday is what I'd do.
Or maybe follow Buddha, at least to the mall,
Where I heard he bought cheap sandals at a discount stall.

Then, like that leper from Des Moines,
At least I'd know where I was going.

But halfway down the steep side of December,
I was feeling no pain as I remember.
I met a sailor from my past life,
Who told me a story about my last wife.

It was all very sad; he thought I should be mad.
I said, it's just my pilot light, went out.
Maybe it's just my pilot light.
Stolen by a leper from Des Moines
Who needed it to see where he was going.