Only taking false prophets at the moment...

Without meaning, stumbling and confused.

Searching with eyes covered and closed with yellow tape from the last policemans ball.

Tasting baton and cracked freedom ringing in my mind,

I lay my sign down to read between the lies.

Security at the cost of individually, 

progressive pillow talk as leaders spend my last dime.

What is this all for if prisoner is all you see when you look in the mirror,

Slave in reflection is meaningless without a smile and a word of good job done.

Times they are a changing as social engineers design the next revolution,

wanting control in our rebellious ways.

Human against human as the tears fall in the gas,

elderly arrested for speaking their minds.

Pickets are drawn like badly designed signs of the apocalypse,

worlds always ending to sell you their new book.

A Wilcock manipulates the underdeveloped heart,

as rows of people line up for the messiah role.

Only taking false prophets at the moment... 

O brother...

Walking down streets with screaming drunks looking for a line, unable to walk a line. Seeking comfort in ny first world problems, hungry nearly homeless and left alone when the chips fell. Nothing to do but see what happens tomorrow. It's hard trying to live in your world, no room for the open of heart, just beasts roaming with knives for the nearest back, one word from the next scrap.

My love she married a man who has no need for things, now she is left with cashless dreams. Wondering around missing the past she left for love, wondering if it was worth it. Do I amuse and lead a shallow life, walking in skin that just won't feel right. Leave the dreams of helping the unknown for cheap suits and a haircut to match. Taking the golden road for trade of my soul, looking from skyscrapers at the jungles below. Is it that easy to throw such things away? To crawl in muddy waters watching the children be baptized in the name of three things. Watching as confusion spills from the kings. Seeking transcending deposits in the name of a star seed, seeking starvation in the name of ties never mentioned in books that seem so plain.

Rain down on me... FRom the Great High, from great heights. Please stop raining on me.