Cookie Man

(Don't ask how. Don't ask why.)

Crimson evening. Lonesome street.
A sweet candy of a tooth. And nothing to eat.
Now that the evening's set, the mood is on.
A sunbathed view to a mellow song.

And I see a shadow. Of a crowdless ruck.
Dazed. And I wonder if it's the Cookie Truck.
I've been so high. So high on blue.
Cookie Man, is it really you?

I hear your bell, your striking chime.
A toneless rhythm, but a whineless rhyme.
The street corner's empty, the routine isn't new.
Cookie Man, why don't you come through?

Use sugar brown and spoon burned.
That's something you don't need to learn.
I'll buy you out. Never pass the buck.
When all of the world's leaning on beginner's luck.

Don't make me wait now, Cookie Man.
It's only just a cookie. My cookie. Please understand.
If the jigsaw doesn't place, and the song not rhyme -
Know it's only a more beautiful line.

The beautiful we ever seek. With a dauntless eye.
Yet crouch somehow in worldly pride
But what is now must come to pass.
It works this way. It always has.

Your smirk I see fading fast.
The spoon is burned. The die is cast.
Of shameful trial, of taboo ways, I tell you this -
The motion is set. The wheel's a-spinned.

Watch how the cookie crumbles now.

You can only say as much as you know.
Go speaking on and on, although.
I taste it now. Sweet déjà  vu.
The dream's just started. Words just won't do.

...My view's a-hazed. The world's a-new.
Cookie Man, is it really you?