Live a Healthy Life in a Cloud of Smoke.
If this is who we are
And who we’ve come to be
Then how come it’s not raining
And the water hasn’t rinsed us clean?
If there’s a smoldering in the stars
And gluttony lives within the greed
Then how come we’re often penniless
And only move our tongues when we’ve agreed?
If there is comfort in the chaos
But a sense of stillness in security
Then how come all of the movement
Makes me want to grit my teeth?
If there are methods to the madness
And silent strength in subtly
Then how come all of the apparent subjugators
Always seem to come out with the lead?
If there are painful feelings for a reason
Ya know, to motivate necessary change
Then how come they feel like death and dying
When they creep into my range?
If there are skeptics for a reason
Just to question, puzzle and pry
Then how come the cynicism within me
Makes me want to haunt, dwindle and die?
I see believers in your book report
But where’s the setting, plot and theme?
You can’t just write to write
And think to think
But leave the devilish details all up to me
If there is love after the bereavement
And a sense of peace once the miasma has cleared
Then I’ll just sit right here in my deafening fear
Yeah, I’ll just count the stones until the calamity disappears
No I won’t hold my gasp until your face appears
Because we both know the rules to which we won’t adhere
There’s a voiceless calling in this fucked up year
And we will fill our lungs with an airy souvenir
The one we gave as a gift when we were once sincere
But the devious nature of my laugh is now evocatively here
And the murder of my moral fiber is deliberately near
I meant it when I told you to “free your thoughts my dear.”
The clock ticks
But I don’t
What used to draw me toward this life
Is now an anecdote
Yeah my veins are dry
But my clothes are soaked
Cause he was hung so high
With the tightest rope
And I drive the smoothest ride
On the most treacherous road
And live the healthiest life
In a cloud of smoke
Cause when ceilings are high
And depth perception is low
I’ll run to the uppermost peak
And never glance below
A black tar in my home
Needles and plastic bags for show
I was never privy to the downers
But I’ve found quietude
In the most bustled drone
Don’t even think to speak
Or even say hello
I can’t read your eyes
Cause mine are decrepit and broke
No I’m not the girl that you used to know
But I’ve never seen me like you see me
That’s always been the toughest blow.