Open the door and fill up my stores
Inside is where I’m keeping warm
Next to the billowing fire I keep
Shivering toes and frostbitten feet.
I went out in the cold yesterday
Only to find that the world went away.
As if everyone else had taken a sick day,
No one walked and no one would play.
Maybe I shouldn’t expect them to stay.
Padding along on these deathly streets,
Humming a tune and keeping the beat –
Taking long steps and walking in stride
But I’d much rather run back home and hide.
Mommy and daddy could give me hot cocoa
And tell me nice things so I don’t go loco
Yoko Ono yelling at John
Screaming his name when he’s off with Paul
Fill in the blanks and then cut the fat
If there’s nothing empty, there’s nothing I lack
My planner’s full, schedule jam-packed
I live by the clock, I can never go back.
No power, no grace to act on my own
But try as I might, I still go on alone.
A traveling king, a nomad with no throne
And I talk to no one, but still try to atone.
What happens when it all crumbles down?
Fires consume these visited towns.
Onlookers watch, but forget my face
Gotta keep moving, can’t stay in one place.
Smoke clears as I wake the next morn
Yet the fog never fades on a heart so torn.
Everywhere I look there are things I must mourn
With happiness fleeting, I’m always forlorn.
Stymie my rhymes with which I can speak,
And out with the old so in the new leaks.
Nothing is all that there ever once was
Where everything flitted around in a buzz.
Spinning heads and leaky faucets
Thoughts are so corrosive and caustic.
Something I had, but I seem to have lost it.
Time’s moving too fast can someone please pause it?
Toss it away and stick to the plan
I’m told that with help from others, I can.
They say that I must continue to dig
To find what runs this malfunctioning rig.
A big wolf blows out his somber song
And bays to the moon all night long.
Here I am trying to keep moving on,
But moonlight is quicksand, my legs aren’t strong.
Sinking into sopping sap
Soaking up the ticking tap
Of clockwork cogs and mechanized hands
Always trying to get me to stand.
But can’t I sleep and try to dream
Of sights unseen and babbling streams?
Eroded marble from the rolling current
Drifting away with the ceaseless torrent.
Running always never stops.
Drifting till the balloon pops.
Footsteps fade and the dust soon settles,
A King rests his head on poisonous nettles
Mind so broken and hallucinating
Eating up the pollutants in waiting.
People clamber with torches, hating
All the decrees he propagated.
Burn the nettle, set fire to the King,
For he is just a monstrous thing.
Watch as his skin curdles and peels
As his screams turn to porky squeals
And for him finally time will end
But one day it will resume again.
