The tree of life
Should be my third eye
Instead it’s a clock
And every time
I close my eyes
My dreams run amok

From first to last,
Put a veil over the middle class

And as I advance
In God’s circle dance
I’m aware I’m about to go under

Holding hands
While they make their plans
To remove Him from the middle

No footprints
No blinking
A child and an old man
Bringing bodies of poverty
To wealth of the spirit-
If only we could understand

They deal in bodies
It’s a roll of the dice
But at the end of it all
The womb is paradise