what a drunken monkey
what a foolish toad
what a silly kitten
carrying this heavy load
what a piece of work
this wonderland it seems is nothing
more than broken half-promises
and half forgotten dreams
it seems we must go on singing
and carrying our swords
we can’t let down our armor
until all the enemies have gone
yes i’m rather paranoid
and scared of my own shadow
so let’s not make it worse
by shooting any arrows
into shattered mirrors
or casting broken spells
for the lady of the house
is not doing all that well
she's gentle as a giant
and kind as a fox
this emancipated lady
truly lives outside the box
sauntering on the alleyway
and running through the snow
amidst the shiny apples
towards the road we go
i break my rhythm
and drop all these pretenses
what good is rhyming
if you still remain in prison
thoughts are all still caged
and real-life is often staged these days
enraged by our shadows
i enter the world silently
and turn these thoughts into gold
forms are empty like feathers
dancing in the fields and snow
go and plant your lilies children
and i will feed you apples
with pancakes and porridge
a life without worry can't be promised
but so many of our problems
come from addictions to our woes