I'd like to live in my own fantasy land
Where people are alright to one another
The beer is always being poured
And the people dance often, dance often
And are naked, not envious
I'd like to live in my own fantasy land
Where you can buy a ticket and stand in line but the line only takes five minutes and the bouncer meets you at the door doesn't check your Id and let's you in for free
My own pretend place
Where the design is modern and the people aren't too domineering, instead organic and they don't test you and the children are cooperative
My own secret world
Where the trains only take you five minutes to reach your destination and on the way we read a bukowski poem and have discussion about it.
And there's no sense in repeating anything, because everything has already been said
In my pretend land
And we're up all night reading poems about mercy and about God
And the space in between
In this pretend land
There are men who are hungry but at least they are warm and they get the occasional good meal and they can make whatever art it is they want to make, or appreciate art