Our Man in Europe, now in Belize, Dave Delacroix: "Sweet Raglan."
...I know where I'm going and I know my own Tomorrow. I know where I'm going & no one's gonna stop me.... Keep your HEAD a-low, U foolish British Gentry, schoolboys are taught, a reptile-rigamortiz, an Arithmetic-propriety. The old school tie. But God forbid not ME or YOU:
...I know where I'm going. And I know just who loves me! I know where I'm going. No one can ever stop me. His she blonde or his she black, a Tartan of the Campbell? Does she blow the pipes, or strike the drum, my heart, my drear, my sweet, my Raglan. (Gal who kicks Ass!)
I know where I'm going. And I know just whom to go to. I know where I'm going, my sorrow & my lonely destiny. My maiden in the Scottish heather. An arrow struck her on the parapets, defending my castle as I, away at the Crusades. A-lack-a-day a Scottish Play!!! And now I sit in sorrow.
ALAS, God damned BLUES!!! But I know where I'm going. And I know my own Tomorrow. I know where I'm going. I know just where I'm going. Do YOU know where you are going, perhaps to meet sweet Raglan. I string my Bow, my arrow true: As for ME, my armor-ruptured, no-ne can stop me! I THINK I still know where I'm going!
Sweet Raglan. Where are you now?
(Dementia entrails & words tend to fail, a mind un-wind chisels at this grind.)
I know where I'm going.
c.2026. dave delacroix.
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