All ponytail, poodle skirt, bobby socks, and saddle shoes,
Little Anna (school books tucked under her right arm)
Ignores the school bell’s third and final toll

[Aside.]
To hell with punctuality!

Sheepishly, she approaches a herder boy
And he, quite smitten with the dark look of her eyes,
Lends her his ear

Do whatever it is ya gotta do

Seek out ev’ry sage and charlatan
And, with equal tenacity, demand counsel

Peruse ev’ry tome,
Holy and profane

Drink ev’ry river
And vivify ev’ry desert

Resurrect Abel and, while he slumbers,
Absolve Cain

Stand firm upon yur prow
And churn ev’ry sea (en ev’ry golden lady’s golden cup)

Break ev’ry wave of honey
Break ev’ry wave of foam

Do whatever it is ya gotta do, boy

And if ya find yurself
At the bottom of a wine vat, whiskey cask, or steel beer drum
. . . SWIM!

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To rid yur cassock of desire and fear

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To rid yur body and soul of corruption

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To not be a hindrance
To not be an obstacle

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To seize the yoke, tame the ox,
And move the stars with a single blow

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To get outta the way

{One-Beat Pause}

Ax en hand, descend mightily upon the wood
And fell ev’ry cedar travailing en decay

Do whatever it is ya gotta do
To hasten yur freedom

{One-Beat Pause}

Delight en the joyes
And sorrows of this world (if ya must)

But be not moved, lest ye be moved
To where the cowherd’s crook is not
And Love is forsaken, left to rot

Do whatever it is ya gotta do, boy

Yonder shore
Is waiting

© The Herder 2016