1. |
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in the beginning there were not so many golden tickets, just one shiny piece of paper - held aloft by sycophantic fops always prancing and hanging about.
then came smith and laid some precepts: screw your neighbor for finer mousetraps
things are better, most would venture, as long as you're in the western hem
the pyramid scheme wasn't built in a day, but we all bought in. now it's shaking what once was all bonny and fey, now we're all all-in.
we were twiddling thumbs to a marked increase in the profits
now i'm dining alone, since the ponzis and paper have madoff
with our slithery tongues we make alchemy, money of nothing, sporting defaulted loans and a car and a place in the country. in our glittering tomes must be shit to which you are not privy, and the evening news has an affect which suggests things really aren't terribly bad - that shit could be worse.
one is for the way that two can play at this; three flimsy branches to cage in the beast (and that's the best part). gepetto and the pentagon will keep the keepers keeping on so no one ever notices that there's an earthquake at the bottom of it all.
shake, shake, señora- shake me if you're a despot too. and you can crouch in that doorway, but the pyramid starts and it comes right back to you.
shake, shake, señora, blessed be when the what is whatyouhave
crouch in that doorway but that pyramid starts and it comes right back.
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2. |
'Cause 6, 7, 8
03:45
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so we continue under the premise that there's a way to fall, and a way to get back again. though rarely, now, interrogating hierarchy: higher up that shitty slope is dryer, yes; still, covered head to toe.
There was a great sund'ring, then solilocution. and the fingers all pointed across the divide, began coining futures whose verse was derisive in tone. so we laid, wond'ring, we now unenabled, if, then, rising was really the best course of all, in part, as we now know, the higher you climb, the farther you fall.
there's a distance between the bottom and the top. we could climb it, dear, wondering if it could make us happy or –
make a difference to the people we have lost: disappointed and destitute, wondering if we're happy or –
it tends to vacillate, and this in contrast to the bombastic flow: time is continuous, not just the little bits that we think in, that are built in.
if it's a pendulum, built by opposing thumbs – can we live in the wax and the wain – such better wastes of time than in climbing that caterpillar pillar.
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3. |
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my darling (my dear),
the air is getting warm again and open windows are en route to here.
the clouds are clearing – they're disappearing – now they're gone.
the jobs are coming back to detroit city
and the urban center's feeling safer every day
and the racial divide's uncompromisingly abolished
and everyone's so fucking happy that it hurts.
your brother's at the back door and he's looking for some bread and you would give it to him if you thought it'd have a chance to satiate him but he'll be right back tomorrow and he'll want a little more, a little more.
so we defy binary classification, such that x is positive and x is less than one.
as we're not so much here and we're not so much not. we could rebuild this city, though it'd take quite a lot of the capital we haven't in the cards that we've got;
so we want a little more.
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