Things don't matter until they do.
I learned that the day I lost you.

I put on my costume
and I go to my big box
The Manager tells me about the numbers
and how I've fallen off

He shakes the paper over my head
I need the paper to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things I don't need
but want

You come to my big box
without your costume on
it's your day off - and you've come to spend the papers
that your Manager gave you
when you put on your costume
and danced for the others out of costume

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things you don't need
but want

and the Manager - he has his own costume
that brings in more paper than you
so he can go on the day he doesn't come to the big box
and visit, without his costume

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things he doesn't need
but wants

and we all put on our costumes
and pretend to love to dance and smile
to collect the papers
that we need

to buy the things
to eat and live
and to get the things we don't need
but want

and then we die

and the man that owns the box
smiles, and counts the papers

Nobody Knows McQueen

Why do mad men,
act so happy,
what do bad men,
feel so good,

nobody knows,

why,
do you have to lose the sanity,
to find,
the genius,

nobody knows,

why,
do the brightest lights,
cast,
the darkest shadows,

nobody knows,

can’t have the beach,
without the ocean and the sand,
can’t have bliss,
without the pain,

what a paradox we are,
us this Human Species,
all us actors just acting sans practice,
in deafening silence commiting acts of violence peacefully,

in this repulsively attractive romantically tragic,
dramatic sci-fi thriller comedic fantasy,
where we rarely do what we say,
even though we all say what we mean,

constantly on a conquest to find Plato’s Atlantis,
expressing ourselves through our art like Alexander McQueen,
which makes sense in a way since we’re all dressed up with nowhere to go,
and even though that may be so we still wear our hearts on our sleeves,

half peasant have emperor,
have invented have inventor,
half daughter/son half mother/father,
half created have creator,

only hope is that this sadness somehow leads to a happily ever after,

once gone,
only that odor lingers,
is it cologne or perfume,
no one knows or cares it’s 2018 it doesn’t matter,

nothing matters,
even though it feels like everything does,
or maybe everything matters,
and nothing feels like it does,

I don’t know,
and I don’t know if I care,
don’t have the answers,
and if I did I probably wouldn’t share,

or maybe I would,
and I’d do so through these words,
like a man stranded on an island with a universe full of knowledge,
sending these messages in these bottles as my parting gift to this world,

see we’re all on our way,
so have some fun before you go,
is there life after death,
maybe not maybe so nobody knows,

why do mad men,
act so happy,
what do bad men,
feel so good,

nobody knows…

∆ LaLux ∆