I wish I could fly
With angel wings
I'd cut through the night sky
As the church bell rings

Soaring high above the pointed rooftops
Where the creatures gather in the concrete jungle
In a daily ritual to shake coins from the trees

Hard to break habits
A meaningless shuffle
from birth to death
Its purpose remains hidden

I can't fly
I have no wings
The trees bear no fruit
Will I ever know?

Shannon sang:
Life is hard,
We have to change

Global pandemics and
Civil uprisings

Nothing will be the same

People in the streets
Voices carry
Did they hear us?

No justice,
No peace

An echo

Rubber bullets
Mace in the face
Independence day

All lives matter,
So they say

Girl in the green shirt

Costume covers
Grieving mothers

Life is hard,
We have to change

Can you hear me,
with your hands cupping your ears

I'm speaking to you,
wiping away my tears

Can you see me,
with your hands covering your eyes

I'm giving myself to you,
I have shed my disguise

Are you listening to me,
Can you make out my pleas?

You couldn't see me
You couldn't hear me

Now I'm gone.

Don't believe that the end is good?
The end is wicked beyond belief.
Does the end make you shiver?
Does it?

All that is inevitable is not the end,
The end, by all accounts, is inevitable.
Does the end make you tremor?
Does it?

Pay attention to the end,
The end is near.

It's a dead-end street,
Time isn't on your side.

Dance to your own beat,
And enjoy the ride.

The light eventually will fade,
Morning will turn to night.

Your end plans are made,
All suffer the inevitable plight.

Fear not, my little lamb,
Face your demise.

Don't give a ****,
We all hear your cries.

A dog chases its tail
as the sun sets to the west

A man rakes fallen leaves
as the light fades into darkness

Children jump rope on cobblestone streets
their laughter fills the air

An old woman peers out a window
while memories dance in her head

Days turn into night
night divides the days

The faces change
but the story remains the same

From one day to the next
we all play the game

Creatures gather in the courtyard at sundown
Armed with stethoscopes and pills

The infirm clad in a costume gown
Laid bare among the land without hills

Guided only by the melodies
Of the beast with the blinking eyes
And piercing tones

Healing begins