Up so close
and I can hardly
make you out
So I’ll just assume
that you’re not there
it’s easier that way.
Don’t answer your phone
I won’t be calling.
Up so close
and I can hardly
make you out
So I’ll just assume
that you’re not there
it’s easier that way.
Don’t answer your phone
I won’t be calling.
what is the worth of my time
when I sit quietly listening to you
I sacrifice my life now
for my life to come
but when I try to show my worth
y’all treat it as just my two cents
not much in this present world
filled with the self righteous
the selfish and quite clearly
as they are all the same-the conformists
two cents once a fortune
but now worn and valuable to whom I wonder…
what is the worth of my knowledge
attained through extensive study
when I am rejected and payed no mind
nor respect or tribute for input
that is of the utmost relevance
and has been built upon through
contemplation of mind
and heart and soul
to be applied to all paths of life
which I pray will one day emerge
in the dewy pastures where
you all will sit and say enlighten us
I will not be god nor am I now
but neither am I the lowly serpent
doomed to slither in constant fear
of being trod upon
when I will walk one road and no more
and always have God at side, on hand
and divinely inspiring speech
few constants exist in life,
but there will always be:
death and taxes
and the perpetual,
obsessive need
to save Christmas
those things so out of place they
strike you as beautiful because when
children wear hats only old folks should and
even the dogs take to driving gloves you know the
time may be right for renewal or something like it where
people take to the streets with pitchforks and
hoping they’ll kill something before something kills them they
give up on home brew kits and
moving slowly inside choose to
hide their children from the outside knowing
full well the crop circles could themselves
invade our grocery stores tomorrow and this
scares only just enough to tickle our
imagination to life again and forget how
things should be and turn once more to
just exactly how we made things to be in our heads
in books we read and stick figure drawings we made
TV ads from
the nineteen eighties
and we all wonder
where the good times went
Failure to figure
our personal budgets
we struggle to find
how our money was spent
But that god damned
theme is
stuck in my head
And it probably will be
all night
But that god damned
theme is
stuck in my head
…
Alright.