late nights border on insanity,
the mornings feel like death,
the days creep on in calamity,
these days rush by like meth.amphetamines.the 'wisemen' say too much,
the fools talk on and on and on,
leaving us out of touch,
and deeper down this great big con.volutions.the milky way will keep it's spin,
as the usa runs down our dreams,
drop us into this great waste bin,
where the missing mass lines the seams.mistress.and or architect you made it,
all for us to sample and wonder,
...
the way is not seen.
the way is not heard.
the way is not felt.
the way just is.
I
