Yet ignorance can be bliss
The unknowing of things
Is a gift we never wish

Shake this obliquity
Shake this obliquity
Out of the system
Abort the democratics
And silly semantics
Eat this eat that
Gnaw away at the ear
'Till pudding seeps out'
Let them fear

Don't be so finicky
Helicopter parents
Secure and stabilize
The family threshold is breaking
Fibers wearing out and oh
Turning apart so well

As it runs down my leg
The embarrassment and pride shed
Unlike the hide I wear so boldly

Shake this obliquity*
Restore all clarity
And wander through its waste
Pondering and pondering
Now so weak from harsh critique
Don't cry home for sympathy

Da-da-da-da*

Everyone wants it genetically modified
An intricate soul; not real but imaginary
All the telepathy is getting to me

Faraway lookalikes
Are jumping in my head
They're ******* on his parade
I know; it's not my parade

The painted eyebrows panic
With indulging fear
And all those protective eyes leer
For those caretakers are manic
And the feeling  is static
Because all this never shakes away

Delving into their induction
I am paranoid they see me an idiot
I am a coddled miscreant

There were gnomes within
The abyss
Crying because they had
No way home
Cowering below water
Trout wipes
Spawning the souring eggs
They laid
Sun-shower clouds spawn
On and on and on

Crying beyond the fathom
Of the Heavens
Armadillo shrimp sunbathe
The bubbling sea bath
Trout wipes' infectious wrath
Drift off current
Tremble off the beat
Induce a treasuring smile
Recover from the bipolar company
Trout wipes

A Crop of Lies irrigate farmland
Deception grows and dies
Its corpse sustains
A cycle refrains

Cold, this night is
Cracks open the ground
Revealing a sight
Seeping through with light

Regions were found
To be taken and conquered
Sailors sailed to eat sailors
And they as well ate bread

Sounds of paranormal had
Guided every boat, then plane
Then spaceship, to the inside
Of a toy box they made

“These Crops dictate Truth”
Says Man (or monster)
Every night is cold; cracked
These Crops are impure

Livestock tell stories of their leader
It’s more of saying really
Because they’re ******* livestock
The Truth cannot tell nor talk

Reason slips off their skin
Like water off oil
Harder and harder it is
For Man to let joy soak in






Journeys of discovery
Travel through the television
Crisps, colas, pies, and cakes
Is what ******* does it

Beef pulp, French toast, tomato paste
Is what ******* does it
All we consume is ****
Crying fat morons decompose

“I really like the rain”
Says ****** with pudding stain
And her body melts and pours
As the rain does inexcusably

Great big dogs soak up in the rain
Unlike Man with his walking cane
They are all dying as they retreat
Underneath a roof of sin to replace

Emotional politicians claim they’re drug-free
As they smoke cigs and drink alcohol
Infant babies were torn apart in shopping malls
Did the World set them free?

Man (or monster) propose
To have a war on anything
Must any more children die?
Or can they get high; watch television?
What the **** is wrong with an aspect
Of harmless self-discovery
Can Man wager livestock’s epiphany?
Is it o.k. to live in a subdivision?

Or on a farm, or in the television?
Do these Crops have to dictate
Which victim we choose to mate?
To dictate our truth?

Can the fake astronaut admit?
He got ******* high; watched sitcoms
Ate potato chips, ate cereal out of the box
Never told a soul it was a hoax

Crops soak in the sweet rain
As the political Man weeps
These Crops become true
Dying Men no longer retreat

A Crop of Lies
Become so true
This wisdom is beauty
What we see now
Is as clear as day

You can wander with me, darling. Live your love with me.
Live in a sea of trance, girl. Oh, if you ever see.

Don’t show me your only Mistress. Don’t drown me in the blue.
Oh, just come with me, baby. You’re the only one I ever knew.

Won’t you read this sacred passage? Won’t you tell me what it means?
Push a little bit hard now. Y’er heart glows, it only seems.

Desperation wrings my body. I can never-ever push you awa-ay.
I’m really not your worry, baby. Will fantasy make you stay?

Take me, baby, to y’er Mistress. Give me, give me all you got.
You’d make with any kind of serpent. Y’er heart’s dark, it’s what I thought.