Nothing makes the chatter stop
Drop your gun and take it from the top
My head, my hands, my legs, my feet
What would be left if I went to meet
the great gig in the sky,
all those that came before that never die?
Would they look at me as crazed?
Would they tell me that I had wisdom beyond my days?
I will never know because I'm bound to grow
Here where greed is ripe, where liars hide
Sat firmly in the great cosmic ride
Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 8:36 PM UTC
Nothing makes the chatter stop
Drop your gun and take it from the top
My head, my hands, my legs, my feet
What would be left if I went to meet
the great gig in the sky,
all those that came before that never die?
Would they look at me as crazed?
Would they tell me that I had wisdom beyond my days?
I will never know because I'm bound to grow
Here where greed is ripe, where liars hide
Sat firmly in the great cosmic ride
I was listening to Pink Floyd. I avoided listening for so long because of the painful memories associated, but I couldn't hide much longer. I opened the flood gates, and here we are. A poem, tears, and longing for a better world.