This poem was written a few years before this, but I never got round to putting it in front of anyone.

Could be misquoted?

Tittle tattle, tittle tattle, what you gonna do,
When you bought the rings of Saturn?
You have no idea, and the thoughts seem red,
like a giant antelope passing over a stew.

Your reindeer like visions, pass from your head,
unborn thoughts, wandering through time and space.
Cheer up the barman said, although with no expectations
that you would ever do it.

Secret lions, climb the chimneys, searching,
but find no solace there, in the awakening.
You are haunted, beyond life and life only,
despair creeps over you like unwashed water.

Fog descends, cannot see, nor judge the meaning,
its life ebbs as it flows, wandering a lonely course.
Still no sea, or mountain, would they get out of your way,
and have you tried asking?