“The Stepping Stones of Life”
Lyrics: John Rantzen | Music: Jochen Gutsch

There stands my Doctor Red
With a piss-pot for a head
He greets the new arrival
While he stands there by the bed

The baby views an open door
And sees the chamber now before
A chamber full of mystery
To be explored with wondrous eyes
To see, to learn to multiply
Like those who came before

Time does not really matter
To the young, the strong, the free
To unravel tangled problems
Is their future destiny

But time in fact is limited
As new ones seek their space
For chamber’s space is finite
For all the human race

Suddenly a massive change
His voice descends to lower range
Hair starts sprouting on his face
The acts of passage now take place

Parties are a total hell
His armpits make an acrid smell
girls now avoid the chance to meet him
His hands go clammy in a greeting

He wisely takes advice from others
And with guidance from his brothers
Learns body cleansing from his mother
and mornings start with shaving lather

He sets to work with soapy sponge
Buys a suit then takes the plunge
Attends some local dancing classes
Girls now give him second glances

His time has come to play the field
To find a girl who shares his need
The wish emerges to go steady
A friendship in which both feel ready

Eye pairs then make a contact fleeting
Both intent on mutual meeting
Seeking some secluded space
Where arms and legs can now embrace
To multiply

For time is short, proceed in haste
For that’s the constant urge of life
For girlfriends, lovers, man and wife

A cantor calls
From ages past
“Now raise your foot
and crush the glass”

For few decades of life remain
To love, to hold, and lips to kiss
The end comes far too quickly
Of this wonderland of bliss

The sun descents in orange red
My wife lies dying in her bed
The song of life becomes a gasp
As sorrow swamps the dreams of past

To grieve, to grieve, to grieve some more
To grieve as tear drops pol the floor
The world has changed
Its not the same
I cannot bear to speak her name

The laugh, the smile, the intellect
These are things I’ll not forget
A moving shadow on the wall
Is that my wife
I can’t recall

Old Omar wrote the song of life
A thousand years before
He now stands quietly waiting
By the chamber’s open door

He holds the open door ajar
And nods his wise old head
He beckons me to pass on through
And walk the path ahead

Behold the path of loneliness
Stretching into space
“Your song is sung, there is no more
It’s time to leave this place”

“Boaties raise and boat your oar
The cask is empty, head for shore”
We two now clasp each other’s hands
As dust that mingles with the sand