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VAGABONDAGE (Drifting) Bruce Cockburn drifting the dance of the landscape and in the clouds the cutout of a whirlwind with shipwrecks drifting always on our way again we're on our way somebody plays the drum somebody plays the flute like water leaping from a waterfall we're on our way and soon in the cradle another little gypsy who will play the piano for the hobos in the bars on the moon somersault suddenly it's raining light all over the place and then all at once we're three improbable clowns doing somersaults we skim along in the coach of a train that's perpetually expanding like the universe: high in the air a compass-card points toward new shores.


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