Once again, I wind-up something good and let it unravel--only to fizzle and fray. The short winded build-up felt good to the nerves, heart, and brain. The let-down, in turn, another pebble on my mountain of pain.
I must find happiness floating on a cool breeze, lost in a cloud. I need to get my mind right for it has been wandering far too long. The paths I choose have no bearing and lead me astray. I no longer see my shepherd's face and green pastures have all but gone away.
On the starry side of the sky, I wonder where my heart has strayed. He still weighs heavy in his olden bone grave. The presence of such is more a reminder than I care to admit. I will erect a tombstone to acknowledge his power--a piece of stone on a lost road home.
I've misplaced the strings to my heart and now any master can give me a start. They pick on me and my old string in a land of misfortune and fame. Faster and faster they play until my tune has broken and swayed. Over and over we'll go, like a stone out on the throw.
One day.
One day, all will come to pass me by and happy I shall be. Resting on my rocker chair, blowing smoke down that chimney there. The bricks of which must weight a ton.
Is it your chimney to bear?
I share not a care.
I leave my own chimney bare.
For want of a care the time was lost.
For want of a mind the pie was tossed.
For want of a game the players were crossed.
For want of a dollar all sense was lost.
For want of some sense...I am lost.
Can sense be made from it all? Only if the machines don't break down on now in our time of need and greed. The same machines droning away at our constant deprivation. Commoners and natives all victims alike.
I'll be a victim as much like the rest of the bunch of bananas and quacks. I'll plot and plan my attack to secure those heartstrings once again. Because, in the end, if don't hold the reigns of your heart and mind, they'll be trampled time after time.
Time after time and time again.
All is lost for me.
If all for one and one for all, then one is lost and all is gone. An eye for an eye and a chin for a hat, but all's well that ends well, right? These eyes, mine eyes, have seen the glory of the coming of the War. It's trampling on the children and demanding 'More, More, More!' Kicking, bleating, screaming they'll drag them from their door. The liars' truth is marching ever onward.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory!
Glory!
I must find happiness floating on a cool breeze, lost in a cloud. I need to get my mind right for it has been wandering far too long. The paths I choose have no bearing and lead me astray. I no longer see my shepherd's face and green pastures have all but gone away.
On the starry side of the sky, I wonder where my heart has strayed. He still weighs heavy in his olden bone grave. The presence of such is more a reminder than I care to admit. I will erect a tombstone to acknowledge his power--a piece of stone on a lost road home.
I've misplaced the strings to my heart and now any master can give me a start. They pick on me and my old string in a land of misfortune and fame. Faster and faster they play until my tune has broken and swayed. Over and over we'll go, like a stone out on the throw.
One day.
One day, all will come to pass me by and happy I shall be. Resting on my rocker chair, blowing smoke down that chimney there. The bricks of which must weight a ton.
Is it your chimney to bear?
I share not a care.
I leave my own chimney bare.
For want of a care the time was lost.
For want of a mind the pie was tossed.
For want of a game the players were crossed.
For want of a dollar all sense was lost.
For want of some sense...I am lost.
Can sense be made from it all? Only if the machines don't break down on now in our time of need and greed. The same machines droning away at our constant deprivation. Commoners and natives all victims alike.
I'll be a victim as much like the rest of the bunch of bananas and quacks. I'll plot and plan my attack to secure those heartstrings once again. Because, in the end, if don't hold the reigns of your heart and mind, they'll be trampled time after time.
Time after time and time again.
All is lost for me.
If all for one and one for all, then one is lost and all is gone. An eye for an eye and a chin for a hat, but all's well that ends well, right? These eyes, mine eyes, have seen the glory of the coming of the War. It's trampling on the children and demanding 'More, More, More!' Kicking, bleating, screaming they'll drag them from their door. The liars' truth is marching ever onward.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory!
Glory!
