I could vividly recall my mood the day that art was murdered
The wind blew a thin layer of dust on my garden bird
Everything you knew was sideways and phallic
The highways traffic added to Friday`s madness
The warm wrinkled skin loosely hung of earnest cheekbones
Below eyes designed to bury the wolf under a sheep`s clothes
Some peoples sang, a few begged for change
A young girl skipped a long with her hand glued to a candy cane
I, however, walked with my back to it as usual
Wanted to turn this dark comedy into a musical
I`m used to reflecting the sorrow the world reflects at me
We`re forever intertwined as the anxious and angry
The gloom moves into oxygen, consumed to keep me lost within
A mushroom cloud of toxins deposited to leave the prophets doomed
There I sat on a lead infested picnic table
Waiting to be born, carefully evading mating season`s evil horns
I keep performing for the poets and philosophers
But they don`t know I was insane before and became popular
I lose something every time I leave my house
Trying to gain something by running my mouth
My conscience don`t hold a grudge against my impulse
Honesty should be the best policy but it`s not that simple
Have you ever had the sky inject a cloud into your lymph nodes
So all you see is how she gazes through a frameless window?
Everyday I have a new argument with myself
Wonder how I got this far up the ladder
But by now I should have failed
Can`t go to heaven, never learned how to pray
Oh well, Rather be in a place with less people anyway
Somewhere between a snare and the extra-tire hogwash