Then a voice on high said: 'Nail your colours and sail into the VAST EMPTINESS'.
You drift through the cosmos for many days, until you find a room suspended in space. It is the box room at the back of an old creaking house, overlooking a garden.
(God does not speak these days, and if he did it would only be a whisper in the waste land, easily drowned. All you hear is the honking of the geese, the roar of the engines.)
Underemployed and tired of the house and the satellites, I went walking. A circuit of the park brought me back to where I began. Roll the rock up the hill again...
I thought about running away to join the merchant navy but wrote a song instead.
This is how that ended up:
https://itsacalamity.bandcamp.com/track/drifting-through-sunday-noon
I'm sure we can all agree that it was worth me getting out of bed for.