carte blanche, baby, whatever your heart wants
a clean slate, a dream state, you seem awake
but you’re asleep in a lake, in a pond of dawn
you can’t be a pilot – in the palm of God
try it. squished in a fist if you insist to exist
in the past and die, that’s asinine, it’s on the john
it’s time for this – seismic shift – like Honda’s mom
trepidation – as the tremors awaken – atomic bombs
in the hearts of the apathetic – who partied like adolescents
as their freedom – was weakened – for targeted obsolescence
whatever the catalyst is, it don’t take Agatha Christie
to unravel the mystery, when you stand on sand that is shifting
the fifth column in fifth gear and transmitting
a fifth of vodka, just drip tears and demand pity
victims are given vixens, losers are seduced
by Lucifer with excuses, then promise to screw producers
and people who bust their ass – are called evil and upper class
those teach who can’t cut or hack it, they feed you a bunch of crap
morons with foregone conclusions, who pour on
poor slobs and confuse em, till doorknobs appear as doorstops
to the future, blamin the man
for your errors, don’t unplug my Mike Jack, son, start blamin the man
in the mirror, who won’t uncuff your right handcuff
chained to the damn barrier, a dream – baby
that’s slain by a planned parent, Slayer and Pantera
for metal heads with thick skulls, and no brain in the anterior
my mental edge is a Swiss watch, precision of vision
a time piece – that I keep – hidden within
you’re a yahoo, and I’m a Netanyahu
ACHOO! you’re an allergen, I’m a talisman, rock hewn
some I will teach, and some I will reach, some I will keep
and some who will weep – because I summoned them from sleep…
© 2011 Paul Will Prevail
OUTTA HERE