The cut-away gene
The one that allows you to cut away from a scene
To enter into any dream.
That cut-away gene.

We all have one and none are free
The gene allows us to be
It and me.
Do you see how it works?
How it lurks in the corners of the corners where you stand
And cuts away a tiny portion of each day
Until the day is gone.

I long for the moment when I pass away in the cut-away scene
Of the cut-away gene.
Will it seem so de-regulation
To cut away the strings that bind me to this station
And to float?

Could I cut away these scenes that come haunting me within my dreams
Is that what the cut-away genes are for?
Would I dig away until I'm sore
Until I reach the very core of this existence?
And should I,in my persistence cut away too much
Would I touch the heavens with my mind?
This is a kind of madness that I see
When all around,none are free
And we are the genetic bought and sold
Another kind of gold.

The cut-away gene will outlive me
And see much more than I could hope to see
But whether it can remember or not is the question that I've got
Does it have soul?
What is its goal?
Can we ever be sure that the cut-away gene is truly pure
Or a hybrid?
A get rich trick?
A gene so sick it makes me sick and quick let's run
The cut-away cuts away the sun and we are blind
Another kind of nightmare scene
Dream
Within the night of the cut-away gene.