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| Does anyone write love songs anymore? Does anyone even fall in love? Or are we placed there Like dolls in a window? Like flowers in a garden Placed all in rows By the caretakers of the yard? I guess I�m impatient. Does anyone want children anymore? Does anyone make love? Or do we exchange liquids, Playing doctor and God? Doctors, take your patients, Plant them in the garden, Watch them grow, Be patient. Does anyone play music anymore? Does anyone still listen? Or can we live without, Catatonic in the moonlight, Rooted into our parents, Unable to rise above No longer gifted with our skin? Eat flowers. Does anyone communicate ideas? Is it even worth the effort? Or are we too busy paying medical bills From when we were born? And when they repossess us And put us into storage, When we�ve lost everything, They can have it. |
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