Time and chance, hand in hand,

two by two, as we may imagine
immaterial things being

in twos. As me and you,
like us and them.

This trail's well traveled,
hard pack limestone layer
eight miles o'wagon ruts long

eight thousand feet

above sea-level on average.

Why would you wander here?
Did you hear us whispering?

We were hiding, hoping
some day you would
find us, fretless feeling

all's as well as can be,
word is
individuals win in some
random order of bubbles,

kindness depends on our kind,

winning invincible bubbles of being.
This one is mine,
you could say.

That's a true saying.
Our kind can do anything we agree to do.

The conspiracy is that
evil is imagined able
to win,

so children believe suffer means
pain and patience is a cruel joke
to prepare you for prison, in America.

Say it ain't so, Joe, say it ain't so.

Bogart, broke, and we all knew, it's a joke.
The priest knew we knew,
he took us to the movie, bought us all soda pop
and popped corn.
Who would ask why?

Say it ain't so, Joe, say it ain't so.

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