THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP

(All these things are ghosts and dreams in the world according to Garp.)

It’s a restless world and the hands take hold as your eyes watch out for a fall

Then you end up flat on the landing mat as you try to fathom it all.

Any sudden move could outmaneuver the plans you made at the start

The hopes and schemes of ghosts and dreams in the world according to Garp.

I was born one day under skies of gray and called New England my home.

And the single name that my mother gave was all I had of my own

I was taught the rules of steering* school though they all fell short of the mark

But these things never meant too much in the world according to Garp.

Bunky grows older, the nights they get colder

The lights burn low and the nurse is home

And the days won’t wait, you can’t make them slow.

See how they go, see how they go.

See how they go, see how they go.

It’s a restless world and the lips are curled as the hands come reaching your way

But the writer’s pen simply moves again and puts it down on the page.

On any stretch of road the undertow could be waiting there in the dark

But all these things are what life brings in the world according to Garp.

All these things are how it seems in the world according to Garp.

In the world according to Garp . . . .

In the world according to Garp . . . .