Biography of Patience
Random, spiritual, lyrical, political.
Riding The Gun
Confused in their panic, ants from the nest, drawn out of turncoats, blind or obsequious That spring that you starved, bees from the hive, suckling nectar, temperatures rise
Ceres appears in my mind As I pray for a glimpse of (divine) design I sense her orbit the pineal, then settle to sleep, supine. Mars projects for the blind
Bruises bore me till I'm stuck here like glue Delusion annoys me if you're frucking untrue I'm dealing brightness in forces approved
Gliding closer to the source of all things Ride the wild till the saturn-bird sings Cresting high, feather storm in her rings Exquisitely starlight
Now the thunder rolls in across the bay Cracks in the sky Sure, there's more that i could do, but not much more that i could say
Heavy in the box Round in the hole There isn't any reason You won't be growing old
love a little slow-dance thank heaven for the romance silent, we sway to the music in the dark
Mark. My. Word. We're going to see some changes 'round here. The dark and absurd, won't be makin' game of me. Haven't you heard? The days are comin', time to be free. You never learn, space sees what you're knowing.
Don't desert your purity, while you fight, while you're right Leave the truth alone tonight Hide your eyes, before you see the national insecurity.
Rock & Boulders (Eureka!)
See, the thing with you is, you bundle all your truth into a little ball, all light and fuzzy, sealed tight. You dip this ball in a fertile pile of stinking bullcrap, which sticks like hired protection. You then cloak this firm and obvious sphere of rubbish, (with it's core of truth) , in a thin veil of honesty,
Derogate & vilify Denigrate, stupefy Peculate, ego heist Facile judge
We'll be entertained, by a fools recurring breed Our thoughts are rearranged to believe
They tell the most brilliant lies White opalizing blues
That whore on the corner is someone's ticket to somewhere… A ride to a good time… Free spirit in the wings
The watershed drowned a blissful days sailing through shame
Now there's so much to do, I should launder
Before the ginger-bread boys stake claim
Cry eternal for you
Til the pleasure-tones evaporate pain
What would you do