The Fool On The Hill 2 Poem by Phil Soar

The elevated nature of the fool upon the hill
Made his need for foolishness, a new intrepid thrill
He stood upon the hillside, with an idiotic gaze
And reached out for his banjo, which he plays and plays and plays

He'd left his lonely bedroom, at the crack of early dawn
And walked for hours up to that hill, then lay down on a lawn
And as he played his banjo, he would sing a silly song
Knowing that the 'white coats' would not leave him there too long

For down at the Asylum, they would notice he had gone
They'd hear his banjo playing, as he sang that silly song
Then off they'd go to fetch him, and stop him in his tracks
They'd put him in a jacket, tie his hands behind his back

And on his return journey, from this place upon that hill
He'd hum a little ditty, as they gave him one more pill
He wasn't quite that stupid, he'd be there again one day
They didn't know he had a key, and kept it stored away

And after this kerfuffle, the fool upon the hill
Lay in bed and slept awhile, until things all were still
And in the middle of the night, he used his hidden key
And wandered off, Banjo in hand, to let his mind run free