This song has quite a story. I had thought it was a Gordon Bok composition until I had to research it for the upcoming Rise Again songbook. I dug out the album notes for the 1983 Bok, Muir & Trickett All Shall Be Well Again album, and began my education. Gordon Bok had learned the song from somebody who learned it from somebody. Bok kept trying to find the songwriter, so that he could get permission to find it. He eventually learned that somebody named Don Cooper was the author. Bordon asked Margaret MacArthur about it, and Margaret spent weeks on the phone trying to track Cooper down. She finally found him somewhere in New England. Bok-Muir-Trickett recorded their own version of the song, but they included the lyrics Cooper wrote in the album notes. So, here's the original song:

MY IMAGES COME
(Don Cooper)

My images come
From the people who do the work
From the people who sing the songs
From the people who live the life
From the people who get along
A bottle of rum
For the demon what always lurk
For the demon what do me wrong
For the fury what is my wife
For the struggle what is my song

CHORUS
It get me down sometime
It get me down but only
A little look around and I find
That I am not so lonely
We in the same boat brother
We in the same boat brother

My images come
From the pleasures I had before
From the pleasures I'm still to know,
From the pleasures my dreams provide,
From the pleasures what I bestow
A bottle of rum
For the trouble what's at my door
For the trouble where'er I go,
For the misfortune what I abide
And for the courage I'm trying to show

My images come
From the woman what's on my knee
From the woman what's in my head
From the woman out in the sun
From the woman what shares my bed
A bottle of rum
For a broken love's misery
For a love what has grown so dead,
Expectations my life's undone
For illusions what I've been fed

My images come
From the world in which I live
From the world I know so well,
From the world of change & light,
From the world of which I tell
A bottle of rum
For the feelings I cannot give
For the feelings what fears impel,
For the screams of a fraughtful night
And for the time what is spent in hell

On Bok, Muir & Trickett All Shall Be Well Again & Gordon Bok Because You Asked.