Clay Pigeons

The creative power working through the mind of man has produced the modern world
We have learned how to release vast sources of energy
And we’ve learned how to make wonderful machines that can travel 'round the
world in a few days
All this has brought humanity under the action of immensely strong material
forces
We do not dominate these forces, they dominate us
Life on Earth is gtting more and more complicated very generation
There’s no room for the inner life
Back to works separating grassroots from astroturf
As half-truths they try to pass off as facts emerge
Keep me tethered to the ground
Bring me back to Earth when I blast off and take my place in the galactic church
I’m trying to grasp light and darks vacillations
In the white room with black curtains at the station
Green makes the world spin like dervishes and Dayton’s
It leads men astray into the serpent’s machinations
With strictures and cave wall flicks to hypnotize
I eat my daily tripe with bare hands
It’s undignified
The Mantron, the cloven tongue, (?) like nails
On a chalkboard inside the stomach of a white whale
Eyes popping out the sockets
Watching profits line pockets
And the price of bought and sold souls skyrocket
Walk a road wrought with skulls
Not with gold
Fraught with signs, roadblocks and obstacles that defy logic
Life’s a package deal
You take the beautiful days with dark nights
And dance with Maya and the starlight
It’s alright
We wax and we wane
There’s wildflowers growing from the cracks in my brain
Dry your eyes
Revitalize
Alive and well
Practicin' my aim
By a grave of fireflies
That fell like Simon Magus from the sky
And hit the ground
(What do you think is falling down?)
Right as rainfalls sent to pacify
Divide the flames
Hydroplaned on torrential teardrops of crying shame
Find your lane
Find the book of life, sign your name
Lose your way hit creative brick walls
Times have changed is it
Art or artifice
Sleight of hand; parlor tricks
Arsenic or medicine
Hellbound or heaven-sent
Sounded sirens we’re here
On Earth stranded where seeds of my present pathos were first planted
If words are weapons I’ll address and press every issue
And spit bullets that’ll rip through your connective tissue
The priest and guard gave a sin
Fiber brimstone and said it’s either devil’s nectar
Or holy water to wet your whistle
But love alone can turn thistles into daffodils
So no dogma for me, thanks, I have my fill
Have my fill of powder black tar acid pills
Catholic guilt, and running from my problems like it’s track and field
Life’s a package deal
You take the beautiful days with dark nights
And dance with Maya and the starlight
It’s alright
We wax and we wane
There’s wildflowers growing from the cracks in my brain
Dry your eyes
Revitalize
Alive and well
Practicin' my aim
By a grave of fireflies
That fell like Simon Magus from the sky
And hit the ground
(What do you think is falling down?)