(no subject)
Green grass, resurrected for the moment, gives way to forceful feet.
Cumulonimbus, spectators, players in this little game of life and death.
I am still thirsty. I thirst for something real, something true, an organic state of being.
Get blood pumping through the poisoned veins once more.
Get these dry eyes to cry just once for old times sake.
Let the breezes blow, let them blow these parasitic structures down.
Let the water flow and dam the population.
Let the snow fall, let the peoples of the world burn their false idols on the alter of survival.
For I have never met a dollar that gave me the answer to the meaning of life.
Cumulonimbus, spectators, players in this little game of life and death.
I am still thirsty. I thirst for something real, something true, an organic state of being.
Get blood pumping through the poisoned veins once more.
Get these dry eyes to cry just once for old times sake.
Let the breezes blow, let them blow these parasitic structures down.
Let the water flow and dam the population.
Let the snow fall, let the peoples of the world burn their false idols on the alter of survival.
For I have never met a dollar that gave me the answer to the meaning of life.