After The Crack Up

After the fun, after the freedom
The discipline of married men?
What a fanned out feather paints it rosy
What a rank file of flowers make the posey
What a limp congregation
I was sick before the germ got a handle on
I might've been the very cattle it was riding on
With the right information
Moderate education, middle home
What a fella needs to know
Is all a fella doesn't need to know
If you suffer you don't talk about it
Which was the lie that laid me low
Under the coat, under the blanket
In the wicker chest, in the sparrow breast
What does it tell you when it tells you now you grow up?
What does it tell you when it tells you now you be a man?
Tidy your thinking up, finish your drinking up?
Be the Tom, be the Jack, beat the beaten track
Die the slow death your forefathers died, in fact
Be ever lonely and angry inside of that
Maze of rage and inchoate affection
What a fella needs to know
Is all a fella doesn't need to know
If you suffer you don't talk about it
To "men who know and men who knew..."
Who for the "Silent grip of hands will do"
And if you suffer you don't talk about it
Which was the lie that laid me low...
After the fall, after the crack up
Nothing then? Nothing then