Occupation is such a daunting task.
The ironclad God swears up and down
That he's not asking me to jump into a dragon's mouth.

Blame me, the thing with the experience
The tacit pact among the angels
To tear it down, tear it down.

You didn't write such scathing songs,
Between your teeth, it was about a girl.
She did you wrong, and did you wrong.
Can't even see her crooked steps.

Well it's the world that's crooked, not me
And I want to hear you out
In court of law,
But we are sitting in a dragon's maw,
And noticing retracted claws
Could be of use to scrape and brawl
And make our own way, rect and raw
And that's our job here, after all--
To make a stand so strong and tall!
Yet all we do is hem and haw
While manifesting every flaw,
And now I cast my eyes in awe
To see my fatal friend's been mauled
The sherpa of my love who hauled
Us both up Everest, hear my call!
You were the only thing I saw
The novel taste of ripe pawpaw
Who drop their fruit in early fall
...
So sitting in that dragon's jaw
My job would be to lay there, sprawled
Into the stomach, break and fall
But until then, I dream
And draw.