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Over and over and over and over again
I will ask You to come and enter in

Why won't you reach out your hand?

--

I don't know if I can make it on my own
'Got people who love me but I still feel alone

Sometimes I just want to chuck it all...
But I don't
     And it's lonely
          for everyone

We've got to make it back home.

I am losing sight of the paths I knew
'Just got to tune-in my receiver to You

Must be some faulty transmission lines...
Oh what'll I do?
     Sit and stew?

I'm tellin' folks everywhere I roam:
     We gotta' make it back home.

In a hovel
In the middle
Of the dark moor

Lives our favorite
Anti-hero
From our folklore

He is waiting
For electric
Thoughts to surface

If you're wond'ring
Is he wand'ring
Yes, he sure is

But he nightly
Comes to sleep here
In his old shack

Where he'll always
Feel that he can
Find his way back

'Dines on squirrel,
Hand-picked field greens
...and an orange

Never mending
That old roof leak
Or that door hinge...

'Talks of hellfire
And of brimstone
Oh what is it

'Sends a person
To their limits
When they visit?

Maybe it's his
Dissertation
On "what's out there"

Or his casting-
Out the demons
From his armchair

Or perhaps his
Concrete notions
Of what truth is

And his staunch wit
Which at times can
Be just ruthless

Yet he's kind and
Truly loving
When I visit

Kindly, warmly,
Locking my gaze
Oh what is it

Makes a person
Want to stay far
From the bustle

Separating
From the life mass
And the hustle

Singing songs to
Phantom longings
And the west wind

And then only
Posthumously
Will his song end

And it's true that
Dissonant, he
Finds his thoughts are

Bestow blessings
On his blind eyes
And his guitar

Down in the quantum foam

When you are walking the Planck

          It’s even deeper

          Even deeper

It’s even deeper you roam

On down to foreign banks



Upon the salient loam

Afloat on quantum seas

          It’s even deeper

          Even deeper

Untying strings you comb

Through Heisenberg’s uncertainties



Certainly, You know just where You are

As well as your true speed

          Loved and hated

          Trifurcated

String to well past largest star

With knowledge of my need



Unfathomable space

And structures in-between

          Even Larger...

          Larger, larger

With a smile upon Your Face

With a passion and a gleam



With your pinwheel doing cartwheels

You don your sombrero

           Iridescent

          Omnipresent

Before breaking seven seals

You pause and feed the sparrow



Scaling Sloan’s Wall

Like it was but a curb

          Here, you're at

          In no time flat

Redemption from the fall

Released with such reverb

Of course, I was raised on those strangers in the pages

And Sunday school schisms and the devil and his rages

Seems to me to be the myst’ry of the ages

But I don’t know where we’re at



And things seem to me to be getting steadily worse

And it pains me so to see the real folks rehearse

And I know all the fakers quoting chapter and verse

But I don’t know where we’re at



If only

Oh, if only…

If only I could see

But the impercipient

Is me

There’s a germ under my toenail and it’s telling me what to do

There’s a germ that’s much to blame for why I’m losing touch with You


And I don’t know what to do, Lord, ‘bout wand’ring and revolt

But it’s the germs, Oh God, …
You know it’s not my fault.



There’s a voice from my past, who liked to talk about true Love

And the train filling the temple and the symbol of the dove

Preaching about the fear of the LORD, Offering a shoulder for your tears

But then again, it is perfect Love that casts out fears…



Then I think of the usurper from whom I take my name

And how he left his family without a shred of shame

The youth leader was his thorn and in his flesh she stuck

And so he frolicked, and left town, and didn’t give a ****



This appendage of the Body when these two start their rambles

Scatters like the seeds… that were sown among the brambles

So we grow and change and join in with a new throng - and we’re bored

We’re staying now for hours, hearing words of knowledge from the LORD



And watching hippie-throw-back-chicks with banners dance and swoon

And a friend upon the floor face-down starts writhing like a Bedlam loon

But sometimes there’d be special folks who’d cut through all the bull

And artists who, like me, seriously, wanted to be full



But maybe we were meant to learn to starve upon this earth

Like Franz’s fasting artist, I’ve been hungry since my birth

But couldn’t find the food I liked, nothing would suffice

“I’ve food that you know nothing of”, quips the Bread of Life



It’s been a masquerade of sorts… a lying to my self

The yearning’s real and solid as a tome upon a shelf

I’m happier when feigning faith (I think) I heed the call

But secretly, I feel as though I’m talking to the wall



The chasm yawns and stretches to unfathomable dimensions

Atonement is a far-off thing; …the germs control all my intentions

Or are we of a higher-order, on a lower-order plane,

Watched with love as we trudge and labor through this pain?




Fifth dimension beings in a four-dimensional place

Scholars trapped in meaty bags unwitting contestants in this race

To see if we can run it well, and in the end be told

Well done! …And now, I’ll remove your cursed cruel blind fold




To a God unknown, I freely state my low and perverse ways

I treat myself, and love myself, to make it through my days

With mercies new each morning and with amazing grace

It’s possible, through outrageous fortune, someday I’ll see your face

All of these feelings
Are too much for me to bear
What do I teach them
When my own true faith is fear
Will it be real for them
If it isn’t so for me
What do I teach them
For their souls to be set free?

The beginning of wisdom
Is the fear of the Lord
The fear of the Lord
Is the beginning of wisdom

    The beginning of wisdom
    Is the fear of the Lord
    The fear of the Lord
    Is the beginning of wisdom

Search through your bookshelves
For the bits that make it clear
Pity the poor boy
He doesn’t have the faith to hear
Grant me your wisdom
He is shouting at the dawn
Are you still with me?
How could I have gone so wrong?

I’m done with wishing
Done with the guilt in which I drown
I am contortion
Trying to keep my breakfast down
If you can hear me
Then let me gaze upon your face
Or let my angels
Escape the tragic fall from grace

    Fear and trembling
    Fear and trembling
    Work it out with
    Fear and trembling

Grace is not due me.
That quality you give unearned
Is what confused me
In fits and starts the torrents churned
The less I notice
The more I feel I’ll make it through
Age is not wisdom
As I went on the less I knew

Age is not wisdom
As I go on the less I know
All this blind fumbling
Where did my aspirations go?
Fire on the ceiling
Would be a start but I’d still doubt
How do I change me?
How do I cut the cancer out?