Southern Fried Circuits
Young Minds of Medium “Blues Call”
When the lake dries out,
When pitchforks come knockin’,
When loose dirt comes crashin’ down,
Where will you go?
The click of a virtual hammer
On a colt made of pixels.
It’s yours, as much as anything
Can be yours here — holster it in faux leather
And carry on your way.
There’s a universe that needs you.
‘It ain’t real — d’you know that?’
Mama says when you
Pick up on that connection,
‘Boys who waste their time playing games go mad.’
But out there, you’re dying,
And in here, you’re the savior
You always wanted to be.
So shirk off responsibility
And relish in the distraction.
Whatever goes wrong
In the virtual bubble,
You can fix it.
Papa says,
‘There’s bills that need payin’,
Work that needs doin’,
A life needs some livin’, after all.’
But see the worlds out there
In the deep reaches of space,
Pulse beating in their infancy?
Or the rolling mountains
Dotted with nightshade and dragons,
Grappling with an evil you can defeat?
This is your dominion now.
Here, you are free
To make do as you desire,
The only limits are self-prescribed.
A new you, a real you —
The you that you can’t be.
Reality may knock at the window
So you shut the blinds.
It’s much better in here,
Where nothing and everything matters.
What if there was a way
To restart when shit hit the fan?
A fresh go, a soft reset —
Make the right decisions this time.
Imagine the chances
To roll back time with the
Click of the tongue.
If you dug yourself in too deep,
Just skip, jump, blip back
And put the shovel down.
Ain’t a need to climb out
Of a struggle that ain’t been born yet.
Ain’t anyone ever gonna understand?
All them opportunities,
All them possibilities,
They’ve got your name on ‘em —
How could just one life ever matter again?
Mama tells me it’s time for the real world.
I want to explain how my pain
Fades away in there,
How a love I found in the cloud
Feels as real as human touch.
But I grovel and shuffle back to reality.
‘Ain’t no one gonna live this life for you, honey,’
She says.
You see, Mama and Papa don’t get it —
I’ve got so many lives to live.
Thanks for reading. Our lives are as real as we make ’em. I ❤ your responses!
