There�s a stop sign in my rearview mirror

�������������� On Russell and College�

�� And I�m tired of 7 11�s with blaring

���������������������� Fluorescent lights

������������ And fights

And lonely people asking for cigarettes at bus stations

And sex that hurts

������������ And having to walk home to piss

And searching for eternal bliss

����� And giving up on life for 5

And filling empty spaces with smoke

������������ And forgetting faces �

�������� And remembering them.

And that caf� where my life took place

������� Slurred by headlights

������������������������ And sized up by caffeine

����������������� And rock climbing nights

��� And I�m tired of loving and losing

����������������� And losing to love

��� And feudalism

������������������ Transforming into capitalism

��� And Marxism existing solely in my ego

������������� As we go

������ (or try to go)

��������������������� with the flow

�� And I�m tired of craving cookie dough

����������������� And coffee

�� And getting toffee stuck in my teeth

And I�m tired of the hills being so far away

���� And perverts telling me to pray

And nobody caring what I have to say

And having a soulmate for a day

����������� And chasing dreams downstream

������� While they sit in salmon�s mouths swimming up

������ And lilacs and heart attacks

��� And the scone man

�������������������������� And Dan

�������������� And Eucalyptus

�������������� Fraud

��������� And pink and blue and Hugh

�������������������������������� And Dew

��� That won�t let me sit on the grass in the morning

�������������������������� And mourning

������������ Imbellishments of intelligences

Governments lying

�������������������������� And spying

����������������������� And crying

������ Goddamn black cars and movie stars

���� And trips to Mars

�� When we don�t have enough money to survive

����� And they tell me to strive

����������������������������������� For happiness,

To walk down this street with finesse

������� And then maybe too

���������������������� Will have shiny hair.

And I'm tired of migration
          and globalization
                  and needing solidification
just to solidify the visions of
              MY mind
and mythology being so damn unkind,
and intellectual babbling bullshit
        screaming elitism
    and hyterical madness
mixing sex and death
  and Aztecan sacrifice,
and rolling Death to
      be blown or stoned
  just for a hit of the jay,
And when I hear him heartlessly say
                    I Love you
                            HOWL
as you lay handcuffed to a
        cop-car
when your future is so far
And I'm tired of
Calla stems breaking
and you taking
        my soul away.
This is
    my Song in Struggle