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Magic. It's magic again. Living breeds these kind of statements. We bury our heads in money & the dust dries our pens. Unbelievable. It's unbelievable. We simply cannot... cannot & will not. No, wait. Yes, we do ignore the Pretense. It's stifling, these conditions. But the Woodchips & the Wheel are our own creations. We made god in the image of a beggar cos we like to feel Large & in Charge... & we only kiss the feet of those higher up the Ladder. Yes. Yes, we do. The sun's out. The sun is out & here we are again, acting Werewolf crazy, hairdo-ed & out of control. Hot dogs & Bar-B-Ques are enough to keep our Reality in check & our Ego realistic. Fantasy is a winter sport, but the sun is always brightest reflecting off the snow. It's warm, my Friend. Drink it in. Least of all. The Least... the LEAST we could do. Let's find It & do It. Have a dime, my Brother... but no more than that. Stay here & i'll help you out. Only here, though. Here & only here. The wind outside is a-howlin' & kickin' up Resentment once more. Stay indoors, my Friend. Come out only to mend the Fence. Don't you see that ditch? That's for you, my Friend. We'll sit around the table & drink to that. It's Fair. It's only Fair. Fair lives here & stays here. Fair never moves. Fair is a Joke. Fair is laughing at you. It's magic again. It's magic... Magic, my Friend. |