Life

What so this is how this thing works?..
One day I wake up and the postmen and the teachers
and the conductors all look my age,
younger,
maybe I'm just older.

So i'm expected to work in a job that's going to kill me?
smoke on my breaks and make crude jokes about women I've slept with over shitty coffee and stale croissants.

The single mothers even look my age, but some things never change.

Where are you going?.. What are you doing?..
I'm an example now.
I thought I always was?..
My whole life I've been an example
with teachers to youngers
and the rest of the guilty parties.

You ask people the time but they won't give it to you,
cause it's running through their fingers,
alarming their mortality.

It's hard not to be poisoned by life.
It's All around us.
All the time.

I suppose we'll slave ourselves out
or indulge in some heart break to take our minds off it,
or, the rule of the land,
that pleasure that's taken for granted in every house in the world. Intoxication.

The simple pleasures lay waste to the stampede from school to career,
or to buy that second car
or build an ivory tower to lock away their children,
a place to teach them a funnelled morality
beat them with words of 'wisdom'
and close the blinds so the sun can't see these atrocities.

No one wants the sun any more,
they've lost sight of it and when it's gone
they'll say they're happy to live in the dark,
to fool themselves rather than admit the truth.

Starve your egos of the common fodder of the land that's laced with guilt and self affirmation,
till one day
hopefully
it dies.

Starve it leading a life without the things that men hold dearest.

So burn out your two cars on the driveway
tear down your houses and office buildings
and dance along the Clyde in your unwashed jeans,
slug your bottle of dreams
and come join the hunt for the sun!