Post by artolmaeus on Jan 1, 2024 1:35:18 GMT -6
the red shoe runs into the blue shoe
and stumbled,
how the foundations built too shallow
finally crumbles
the most knowingly sufficient ones
can only mumble
somewhere the emaciated man builds dreams
by lifting dumbbells
and all the excited people
yawn
they live along by every person
the busy ones and the lonely heroes
the broken ones who pick up pieces
but are occupied by counting zeros
and somewhere fools gather in numbers
like a world of manic fiddling Nero's
and all the accountants quit and went
home
tax the rich and pay the poor ones
we are all in comas watching reruns
but Archie Bunker broke free with guns
and all the rappers are stealing his puns
under Vivaldi's own summer suns
and all the paraplegics
dance
is there a moment left to really make love
does any body really feel they've been loved
and all the things God created he swears that he loves
are tying shoes together and throwing on power lines
well, fine
they all make the laws so they can break them
they risk it all so for chance they'll take them
they dig it all up and leave it for the sun to bake them
and somehow all the new Einstein's are
dumb
and all these ones who point their fingers
for all the losses where one can feel endangered
and still the gears of persecution linger
and all of those on the executioner's docket
each and every one of them, they are,
us
and stumbled,
how the foundations built too shallow
finally crumbles
the most knowingly sufficient ones
can only mumble
somewhere the emaciated man builds dreams
by lifting dumbbells
and all the excited people
yawn
they live along by every person
the busy ones and the lonely heroes
the broken ones who pick up pieces
but are occupied by counting zeros
and somewhere fools gather in numbers
like a world of manic fiddling Nero's
and all the accountants quit and went
home
tax the rich and pay the poor ones
we are all in comas watching reruns
but Archie Bunker broke free with guns
and all the rappers are stealing his puns
under Vivaldi's own summer suns
and all the paraplegics
dance
is there a moment left to really make love
does any body really feel they've been loved
and all the things God created he swears that he loves
are tying shoes together and throwing on power lines
well, fine
they all make the laws so they can break them
they risk it all so for chance they'll take them
they dig it all up and leave it for the sun to bake them
and somehow all the new Einstein's are
dumb
and all these ones who point their fingers
for all the losses where one can feel endangered
and still the gears of persecution linger
and all of those on the executioner's docket
each and every one of them, they are,
us
