We all have different concerns
about how this is all going to end.
Cause others to fear and harm their fellow man.
Cause some to learn love and friend.
We all need the words left as clues
by our predecessors to this life. Trust me.
They are humanity’s perpetual oxygen for the soul.
Janis Joplin read alot, but didn’t want to tell nobody.
We all occupy this fool flesh, hysterical and warm.
Tenants of self discovery or of self indulgence?
Work. Crime. Order. Chaos.
Eternal faces lush minds. Gone faces and dead minds.
We all are surrounded by growing, expanding choice.
A cache warehouse landfill to scour and devour.
The consumer universe of countless web pages, bottled waters,
political ideals, gas guzzlers, MP3’s and concepts of power.
We all play a different gig every night
dominated by rules and adversaries.
And I’m a torn and inquisitive fool,
but I am not controlled by someone else.