Tame the river,
build a dam.
Plow your fields,
control the land.
Build your homes
and towns and roads;
Tell the river
where to flow.

Man is stronger.
Man is smarter.
You know this to be true.
So the challenge the Earth
with all your forces;
Show her what Man can do.

Boundaries don't mean anything;
Not up against Man's machines.
Mountains crumble,
deserts bend
to Man's will,
means to an end.

Shatter the forests.
Suppress the tides.
Tear the soil.
Rip the skies.
Concrete kingdoms--
build a perch
from which you'll watch
as you destroy the Earth.

You show the Earth
what Man can do.
You make her better
but jokes on you.
For Earth is the substance
from which you're made.
If you poison the world
you won't be unscathed.

The Earth is old and wise
and patient.
The Earth will persist
even if you don't make it.

Pine tree horizon,
stretched to the point of rupture
over the divine cardinal points around
A round world
which's center is me.

Roads I'll maybe walk,
most of which I won't
but the voyage goes on anyway
as long as I have feet.

Nothing this generation gets:
I chased this out of a bad bet,
and found heaven in a net.
We ate the scenery that day
let it drip onto our ***** sleeves
drying in the cold night
the stars,
God they were bright.
It makes me feel alone here in suburbia,
where the buffalo don't roam,
it's impossible to feel so small and so free,
so careless, in this city,
For there is more to Electricity
there's more to useless junk,
there's boy Scouts going
on a real adventure,
their adventure out of their hell
tha smelly parisian cage of pipes,
tubes, teachers and tests.

They get to breave here in Eden,
they see they're missing out,
they cheer the sun all morning,
till the nightime dries him out.
They get to hug the moon,
to face the secret truths under a piece of cloth,
a brown sky tent from which they
feel like they get it:
Men were apes and
they still are
they cannot live inside a jar
and when we breave that honeyed
air, when the smelly brezze rushes through
our clotted hair
we finally get to peek over the mountain,
and love it with
all we got.

Sometimes a sadness comes over me.
And I drag myself under the porch  
like a wounded dog,  
injured and ashamed
ready to die, alone
I never let the rest the world see me like this.
My friends and family,
What would they think?
probably the worst,
Maybe they wouldn't think about it at all,
It didn't make much difference.
I howled and moaned and wept,
And sooner or later,
when I built up the courage,
Usually, after a night in a tall glass,  
drunken spit,
and flickering cigarettes,    
I drag myself back out.  
I shake out my bones,
and start all over again.
I know one day
I wont have the strength to crawl back out from under the old porch ,
But that's  okay.
We never really had a shot anyway
did we?