joy

[chubtoad]

the sun goes up, the sun goes down
watch us all turn, around, around around.

seeing nothing, hearing not
tasting only empty spaces
fearing that all this is naught

we wake up each morning
wind our springs
go off to working
doing all these things

by morning star's summit
we tire ourselves
forgetting always
our beautiful scars

the ones we've earned
through these mystic days
living our lives
in this false haze

if you don't look
for the lovely tree
the smiling clouds
or the joyous breeze

than all you see
is rotting wood
depressing smog
and cold hard chills

so forget the hour
forget the day
relax yourself
in a peaceful way

find contentment
find the joy
find the batteries
for your favorite toy

forget the rat race
forget the hares
be the turtle
take the stairs.