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Hearts and Minds
Your heart’s a ripper seed with all this emotional motion. Your mind’s the remedy flooding you with the light. Your heart, the strangler tree. You’re under the weight of the ocean. Your mind sets you free and makes everything so right. I remember when your mind was a work of art. Making fusions of the angels, queens and tarts. But you surrendered to the devil in your heart. Your heart’s in disarray. Falls to the bed of the ocean. Your mind has the final say and swims to the summer sun.
This is the nation where we like to draw the blinds. Miseducation of the pure unblemished mind. A simple question of personal faith. The child gets frowned upon. The conversation is brought to a close. Verboten lexicon. Silence, Silence, you can’t say that. The smallest child has the biggest question marks like ‘when it rains, why do we not have an ark?’. The reasoning of a life and a death and all those questions why, come from a voice with a freedom of choice, not moguls in the sky. Silence, Silence, you can’t say that.
Seriously, What’s the Rush ?
In the beginning man makes some kind of home. Only decision is made by a sex chromosome. Situations make for a new direction. Situations make for a massacre. In the middle, righteous are roasted to cinders. Where’s the love? it never appears from above. Situations make for a new reflection. Situations make for a brand new light. When the heavens come a crashing down on us, I won’t pray, but what I will say is, we may have missed the bus. When the ho-holy maker shakes his head, I won’t freeze or fall on my knees, but I may go back to bed. Because seriously what’s the rush ? Situations make for a new messiah. Genetically modified by science and surgical sense.
Freak of Nature
Give me some of those defects. Your imperfections are perfect. When you fly of the handle, it’s a beautiful shambles. All I can say is la la la. Hey you freak of nature, my little linchpin. Hey you, you master baker, bake me a roll with a soul full of sin. From a nonchalent opium to a wild pandemonium.
Goats on Fire
When the morning comes, you and I will run, like goats on fire. Fire breathes from the blackened pyre. You in your white bridal veil, holding a molotov cocktailm, we’d be together again, we’d share the pain. If we ever get a merciful epitaph. We were hiding in the shadows of a ruined old photograph. Here lies the ruins of the great placaters, the unintentional logic decimators. When tomorrow comes, we’ll see the midnight sun. We’ll see it together. And those reflections that last forever and ever. Me in my uncorrupted suit, inside a house of ill repute. This could go anyway but let’s go in anyway.
Red rays of jeopardy. Here comes the sunshine, bleeding the skyline. One small tree offers the shade to a million needs, handing out the fruit and the honey soaked with dew. Can nobody see that this is a Nubian Tree? Real blood spills everywhere. Here comes the crossfire. Bleeding the innocent.
Into the Forest of Fontainebleau. Deja vu. I’m sleeping again. I’ll suffer soon. My childhood fear of mechanical faith machines. Coffee beans mean much more to me. Vitamin D. Here come the yes men on their way to the flunky den. Here come the puppet hens, time and time again. Here we are at the start of our civilization, when the war is a war of a million minds, troubled times. Sleeping men out to kill bear in hibernation. Too much coffee beans. Not enough Vitamin D. Into the freedom of solitude. Now your screwed with nothing to read and no more ballyhoo. Can you outrun the mechanical faith machines? Coffee beans may give you a start. Vitamin D.
There’s Life, But Not As We Know It
Is this a life, when you’re living inside quotations ? Is it a crime to imagine how you’d kill someone ? Could we be wrong and still be friends ? Live to disagree till the bitter end ? Shoot me down with emoticons, but my life is very short and I’ve got to get on. I get my kicks from the marvels of human nature. I get my morals from the readings of Dr Seuss. Could you be right when you shout from the left ? Seems you lost the keys to your community chest. Shoot me down on your teletron, but you know it’s getting late and I’ve got to get on. And now the sun is compromising, only illuminates your blame. It just won’t bother trying rising. But it’ll give you something new to think about when you’re shouting at the fire with your gas powered mouth. I get confused by these troublemaking rabble rousers. I get confused quite easily these days. Is there just too much stuff in the world ? Too much everything for every boy and girl. It’s life but not as we know it. There’s life in here but not as we know it.
I want a share in your ecstasy. I want a piece of your sanctity. But will I ever really be free ? I’d have to open my closet door. The skeletons fall to the floor. There’s things in there you don’t want to see. Take a little line from the underworld. Read a little tale from the crypt. Take a little breather from hunting pearls. Every day will soon make you sick. I want to photobomb your curtain call. I want hack your crystal ball. But some things I just don’t want to see. And so you scream that you deplore. Oh whatever you do, please do not open that door. There’s things in there you don’t want to see. Let the skeletons free.
Maybe It’s Just Me
I don’t want to see these old photographs. A faded history rolling with laughs. How many times can you say I’ve got a good idea ? How many times can you pray everybody disappear ? I thought everything was moving but maybe it’s just me ? Seems like everyone was talking and only I could see. Now when I think of you, I think of empty rooms, I think of burning wood and poisonous fumes I thought everything was moving but maybe it’s just me ? Seems like everyone was talking and only I could see I thought that all the world was singing but only I could hear angels calling out my name. Oh my dear Oh my dear.