I'm too much of a mystic.
I live in my head.
I always know the words,
before anything is said.
I can see the future,
before I get out of bed.
Sometimes I lay there,
and let it fill me with dread.
It's hard to get up,
when it's written in red,
but these visions have led me
to share my bread,
because I always know
when a heart has bled.
I'm a mystic that lives
too much in my head,
but these visions don't always
fill me with dread.
Sometimes they give me
happiness to spread,
because a mystic knows tomorrow,
you could wake up in bed,
with a vision in your head,
that someone you love
will pass on to the dead.

In the black holes where my mind goes
I have starring roles in dead end jobs,

it's a job though and it keeps me from self harming.

The scripts are ripped off from some sixties satire
as is the attire I tire of wearing,

But when the universe is bearing down on me
and what I see are
cataclysmic eruptions disrupting communions,
what real problems do I own?
not even my own
they're pawned to pay the rent.

On the other sides of the side I see
there are many,
many more like me
who look to see another side
when all they have to do is
collapse into a black hole,
take one of the many
dead end any job will do.

enjoy the ride
it's the only real thing left.

We laugh and quite hysterically
as they ****** me and by me
we
mean you.

Chrystallised calamity trapped in
amber permanently,
an eternity of diffused light.

And it's the cutting edge that cuts us clean,
the torso of the queen told well the story
wherein the demons dwell.

The modern mobsters.

They're selling people on the market stalls
with popcorn mix and aniseed *****
and dontya know
people sell very well as ornaments
to decorate the boardrooms of
bored business men.

Swift was wrong,
we're the midgets and the giants were with us all along
it's just we couldn't see them with our eyes
lashed to the treadmill.

By any stretch a longer stretch of my imagination
would get me two to ten
in the pen'
upstate,

but they clap me in irons and
throw away the key
and that screws me
for everything.

There's nothing quite like a memorial
to remind you we should all be thankful
for something.