in this life of mine
i possess the divine tools
but how do i use them
daily, surrounded by fools
determined to elevate consciously
though it seems that ignorance rules
from the first days of breathing
the brain, thoroughly bruised
placing no value on god
but value your socks and shoes,
would kill a man for nothing
cause you have nothing to lose
self hatred from within and without
singing the blues
soak the sorrows in relaxing elixirs
that tend to sooth
if this cycle continues on in time
and we refuse
to wake up from this slumber
then, forever remain confused
the villainous portrait
that is painted in the weekly news
will only scratch the surface of what
we face in this imminent doom