The Eighth Floor

The Eighth Floor 7/2/2013

The spider is in the hour glass
And a skull grins in the dirt
Dying to tell us something
That nobody wants to hear.

The sky sinks to the side
And darkness covers the moon
A thick red haze
Impenetrable and poisonous.

Such is the end
Of a colossal waste of time
As we take our precious gifts
And run them
Into the ground.

Nobody sees it coming
Or at least that’s what they say
When the criminally insane lash out
And destroy everything they see.

I’ll take my love
And hold her close
Closer than before
And just like I should.

But the rest of my work
Is nothing but a joke
A useless set of measurements
That won’t’ change a thing.

Somebody always does the work
And somebody else
Will take all the money
Escaping at just the last moment
Before it all comes crashing down.

Parsing words
And passing laws
That no one reads or understands
Just to increase their power
And screw over, someone else.

The dead mountains
Surround us
And in them are the secrets
Dug in deep, dark
Black and dead.

They like to hide
And they like to plan
Conducting the unthinkable
On the unknowing
And the damned.

On the upside
There are the others
Who just sedate themselves
Protected by the gates
So they never have to think.

Deep beneath the sage
There is a future
We cannot have
Doomed to repeat
The same lessons again.

People shine their cars
And people spend their money
Safe enough for now
And trapped in a bubble.

But all the restraints are broken
And all the demons are loose
Running in our heads
To distort, inflame, and torture.

One thing leads to another
Just like we always knew
But because some didn’t care
All resistance melts away.

Evil comes
More barbarous
Than you can imagine
Held back for the longest time
But now free to roam
And destroy.

Let us drink deeply
And sing songs of love
Laughing at ourselves
While we still
Have the day.

Tonight we laugh
And speak softly
Under our breath
Speaking what we think
And knowing what we know.

The bigger the lie
The longer is lasts
Reinforced by fear
And decades of propaganda.

But even the black bird knows
That where there is death
There is food
And where there is loss
There is blood.

I have loved
And I have lost
But none of this means a thing
Because none of us
Have anything left to gain
By hiding from regret.

I forgive
And I am forgiven
At last free to understand
And take everything back.

Come to me
And remember the truth
That no matter where we go
And no matter what we do
We belong together
Somewhere else
And somewhere better