Made it to art school, but you always knew you were too

coool

so you popped that gum in your mouth and blew out breath that was fresh, but found yourself in quite a mess, quite a beautiful, beautiful

mess

you loved some of the books, but what could they teach you? you love some of the teachers, but what could they preach to you?

escape artist made it out alive! HA

you walked in lowly to the art supply store bought yourself a drawing pad and a guitar, what a SCARE! what for, what for

you live on canned beans and stick to the paints and strings and the occasional
fling

your creations become serious and the songs become more profound, as your wild apartment blooms into a garden of spinning wheels

of spinning wheels

You take up a job where daydreaming is acceptable, and move on out of the way of your superiors when they walk in the room, punch in your time card, then continue on those silent a musings

jesting

throughout the day, throughout the day

you read very little and listen to even less but create a lot and thank the good lord for that!

The place smells of fumes and the streets beckon you, but you lay on top of the creations, high on it, high on it, high, high, high

high

YOU WHIP! YOU BANG! YOUR HEART IS SOBER FEEDING THE INSANE, you scrap everything

burn it
in a tin
can

and the clothes too

and your beard is long

you shave that too, yes

bloom, bloom,, bloom, bloom,

the next day you are ravenous and you eat five dollar burritos, two of them, you shave your head, in a  tank top

you are on fire, a wild vulture

DOO, DOO DOO DOO, DOO


THE WILD VULTURE IS ALIVE

NEW YORK CITY IS BURNING

FIRE ANTS, FIRE ANTS, FIRE ANTS

NEW YORK CITY IS BURNING

AND THE WILD VULTURE IS ALIVE