the dark streets of decay 19

trapped in time and out of rhymes

i sell my novels for  dime

 

one trick ponies in the tent

the ring master cannot invent

a new show for the circus crowd

but their applause is always loud

 

satellite eyes in voyeur skies

bounce signals off our true disguise

i realize now i am not wrong

DARK. STREETS. OF. DECAY. my swan song

 

i left them in search of answers

puppet, strings and i’m your dancer

but every time i hear you talk

i want to just go for a walk

 

back then i had such confidence

needing nothing but your silence

i was for sure there is no cure

perception propagates the pure

 

but now i waver with the wind

this week we must now all pretend

that this is right and hip and cool

the disagree becomes a fool

 

when i explain i’m not insane

and once again i must profane

for god’s sake there’s no fucking god

and everything upon this sod

doesn’t happen for a reason

no one orchestrates the seasons

 

so let me be, let me be me

i’ll walk in rain and laugh at trees

i’ll stagger, stumble and i’ll sway

preach nothing but that all decays

and ask you just to go away

i’ll venture forth into the fray

 

avoid the rationale of reasons

in short, i’ll avoid everyone

 

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