He took pen and started to write away,
and he had a great deal to say.
The guy wasn’t fun,
the Existential one.
The tale was far from pale.

For Sartre et al., he sowed the seeds,
in the 19th century.
No rosaries bowed down on his knees.
Name of book: “…Zarathustra.”

Then later:

In the same time, in the 19th century,
C-major, B-minor keys:
tone poem not song; it moved right along…
the same title name.
And then the hands on the big clock ticked—
it found new life in the filmic shtik
concerning a fated voyage of spaceship…
more, more “Zarathustra.”

“Swell flick, swell crew,” the critics said.
The soundtrack messed with folks’ heads.
Ligeti’s on the soundtrack too.

Two pieces came from that text,
then we are looking back’
to old and new schools. Really pretty cool.

This only goes to show that shtik
is ageless and metaphoric.
It always turns, turns, turns, turns the slow-burn trick:
Three Zarathustras.