two eyes doesn¡¯t mean double vision
|
i never questioned this stance but now
|
i¡¯ve been seeing things
|
i can hear a voice in the distance
|
trying to turn my attention to their truth
|
someone¡¯s moving behind the curtain
|
i point it out to my friends
|
but they don¡¯t see a thing
|
i just keep my synaptic active
|
to prepare for the day that they do
|
cos this ain¡¯t how it ends
|
and they¡¯ll say*
|
let¡¯s hear it
|
for the post-moderation
|
for tolled salivation
|
who cares so much about these things
|
availed denomination
|
the ¡®so shall¡¯ domination
|
*now i think it¡¯s funny i feel distant
|
i¡¯d run away if it¡¯d make any difference
|
i¡¯d look up my childhood crushes
|
but they¡¯ve all have their own children since
|
and even if their hearts tarnish
|
they've gold wedding bands to hide the green
|
pearly gates to show from her past or his mouth
|
he too bears the burden of a bulbous belly
|
yeah, yeah, i know, i know this veil ain¡¯t real
|
and still it never fails to fall or send me reeling
|
i awaken to the same ceiling
|
and i can¡¯t seem to shake this sick feeling
|
|
i don¡¯t need surgery to keep my smile fixed
|
ever confidant, never nervous
|
for i feel nothing
|
i work hard and come from a respected family
|
we take care of each other, we do
|
we won¡¯t live until we shed this skin
|
oh, to be free again
|
a vestige interest in the instrumental moment
|
you¡¯ll know it when
|
now all the pieces keep falling faster
|
your letters spelling disaster
|
i wish i was in paris getting plastered
|
cos all this masquerading¡¯s started my facade fading
|
turned my quiet heart to hating
|
whatever
|
it is that we¡¯ve been waiting for (it)
|
when they¡¯ll say*
|
let¡¯s hear it
|
for drained health and elation
|
brain cell annihilation
|
who cares so much about these things
|
pupil dilation
|
more light to the patient
|
*that every word that i¡¯m speaking
|
will poison the chance that you¡¯re listening
|
i know that you think you¡¯d be missing out
|
with an answer
|
that we can¡¯t make out or make up
|
but even if we black out and break up
|
it¡¯s just a breath ¡®fore we¡¯re looking back, laughing out
|
cos every end¡¯s a beginning, beggin' to get back in
|
you know i¡¯ll come around, if you just let me sleep in
|
with each wave more violent than the last
|
i¡¯ll keep my thoughts silent till they pass
|
we¡¯re not ready yet
|
they¡¯ll say you¡¯ve got to build your tolerances now and then
|
make your heart a callus with thicker skin
|
i just can¡¯t seem to shake this (sic) fealing
|
|
the more they interfere to forestall me
|
the clearer i hear her calling me, calling me
|
i must have struck a nerve cos someone¡¯s following me
|
i pull over to the shoulder of the freeway
|
my history profiled on the licensed registry
|
the shepherd keeps a careful eye on his personal inventory
|
saying we¡¯re the same
|
|
so come on, child, you¡¯ve slept enough
|
and i know you¡¯re tired but i¡¯m waking you up
|
there is much to be done, and we¡¯re right on the cusp
|
of this shit getting real, i¡¯m mean really, really fucked
|
every sheep for the shearing waiting around non-plussed
|
trading branding irons for brand-name cuts
|
we were born in labor, baptized in dust
|
given life anew as a living trust
|
with every hair numbered and cross-referenced
|
for each soul they claim to save, they have added interest
|
with a price on your head, what you think matters not
|
every credit card statement, every lie you¡¯ve bought
|
rates our exchanged faith for the next fiat
|
on the blotter paper, the blood don¡¯t clot
|
it just bleeds you dry and then leaves you to rot
|
in a dead end job till at last you drop
|
into this old noose, with the rope drawn taut
|
left with your hands bound so they¡¯ll never be caught
|
you may sabotage our education
|
to a calculated chaos born of confusion
|
a controlled market through the inflation
|
truly euthanasia to waste on the young
|
but, we¡¯ve caught you now, and we¡¯re cutting your funds
|
we outnumber you over a million to one
|
it¡¯s a sharp weapon, but the point¡¯s left blunt
|
there¡¯s no skill to the game, no challenge to the hunt
|
with each target deaf, blind, and reticent
|
| got your ducks |
