A return of song
An entry to the throng
And God's will be done
And God's will be wrong
And God's will be misheard
Let it be misplaced
Let us eat a feast of lies
Let us stuff our face
At least we have a face
There are some who do not
Though my one love would tell us
That that's a quite wrong thought
I still had the drink
The elixir, the potion
The gift from Mother Goose
It set us all in motion
They thought I was asleep
When I had one eye open
They thought that they were safe
And now their arm is broken
I felt the change, I let it happen
I smashed the door and tugged him in
Or her, I'm not sure, but I snapped each bone
Until I was quite sure I'd win
They told me everything
How to get out
Or, more realistically,
How it was impossible, without a doubt
The building was a maze
The halls were infinite
The stairs never ended
The doors opened back into it
But they said nothing about the windows
Nothing about the glass
I smashed right through into open air
I fell upon the grass
Down six stories I fell
I don't know how I survived
But one thing is certainly for sure
I mostly will now thrive
No comments:
Post a Comment