12th & Nirvana

Escape velocity is fiancée to the will of the engine, The metal on metal of
routine orbit gets so astringent,
Salvation’s puppet strung from a cloud of knowing,
Where a dead rainbow’s withered husk has stopped glowing.
If you want to take that pointless ride just for the point of pointlessness,
Just head down to12th and Nirvana.
You feel like a leaf in a hurricane; suffering fascination,
A poverty stricken heart that can’t afford the privilege of exasperation,
In an effort to bring the struggle to the sidewalk’s pitch,
You find yourself in the architect’s ditch.
And if you want to just get away with out the risk of going anywhere at all,
Just circle the block to 12th and Nirvana.
Labor and god it’s all just a very clever waste of time,
An a cappella fuse of a song lacking the penance of rhyme,
It’s no wonder that the moon is stuck in our throat, And the petty joys that
pull the focus on the inside pocket of a dirty coat.
If you want to escape the grand bitch of reality at the cost of a few coins of
illusion,
I know a man down at 12th and nirvana.