Written By: Sage Francis
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I listen for secrets hidden in whispers...in the winter time/
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And catch them tickling my whiskers...colliding with wind chimes/
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The kind that send shivers...up and down tingling spines/
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Thinking time could stretch if...
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we'd spin a design inside our web that would catch drifts/
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The type that blow out birthday candles before we make our death wish/
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I'm waiting for a message in my calling so I'm checking my voice mail,
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and I'm answering machines with man-made dreams.
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Man made bandaids to cover up the seams.
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The cover-up seems to only work if the wound never opens up or bleeds.
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Beads of sweat form above the eyes of a heathen Emperor/
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Who won't get on his feet and step outside into the freezing temperature/
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He wants to adjust the global thermostat/
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But he's so remote...and you can't control the world like that/
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Come to find these eggs ain't even golden.
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I see depreciation in the family jewels the Queen is holding.
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That broken marraige was fixed. It happened when her feet were frozen.
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She still remains to be the only one who's seen the Emperor's new clothing...
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The Emperor's New Clothing
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| Sage Francis |
