You toss a coin
or turn a card
anyway you throw the dice
you know that life is hard
so you want to take it easy in some nice bijou apartment
but you know that 'heaven sent'
is just a figment of imagination.
Creation's just a spirograph
it makes you cry
it makes you laugh
and in the end
someone will send an 'etch a sketch' to wipe you clean.
So fetch your dream tied up in bows
tie it to the arrows of the discontent
let them fly off to our parliament
and then forget,
that we were once the future that was told
but now we're old
we are expendable.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 1:05 PM UTC
You toss a coin
or turn a card
anyway you throw the dice
you know that life is hard
so you want to take it easy in some nice bijou apartment
but you know that 'heaven sent'
is just a figment of imagination.
Creation's just a spirograph
it makes you cry
it makes you laugh
and in the end
someone will send an 'etch a sketch' to wipe you clean.
So fetch your dream tied up in bows
tie it to the arrows of the discontent
let them fly off to our parliament
and then forget,
that we were once the future that was told
but now we're old
we are expendable.
Request permission to use this poem