A scarecrow dwells on the horizon
Such a lonely image of crucifixion
No ragged thieves surrounding
Sublimely frightening and beautiful
Observing this world’s unfolding
From the inside solitude of loneliness
Externally gazing at the moving distance
Tethered and shackled to lifelessness
Exposed to nature’s scorning passage
A victim of insignificant circumstance
This symbol of something miraculous
Sowing each souls fertile imagination
Harvesting it in the rags of the future
Fixed and pinioned to the present
The lonely ballerina on the landscape
Unmoved the world moves around it
Like a dancing figure on a music box.

The false glimmer of charisma
Waxing lyrically on the shimmer
Conceals the shadows in the light
Fantastic hollowness of thought
Counting out the take on the insight
Of the taken at the back of the hall
Silhouetted by the moving shadows
Writhing prophecies on the wall
Vexing vanity before the fallen
Cloaks a heavy bright fantastic
Image outside its hollowed light
Deceiving to believe in its self
As the saviour of that living truth
Which it alone is possessed of
Deceiving innocence by stealth
As substance dies an instant death
When style triumphs over beauty
High hype from the lowest heaven  
As the media thieved the language
Murdering truth with killing syntax
In gorgeously manufactured styles
Torturing all us immaculate vowels
The medium strangled the message
As the messengers styled their hair
When presentation hit the airwaves
Surfing highways to lower heavens
That perished our innocent thoughts
And substance died an instant death
As ephemeral flourished by abuse
Subjected upon the corpse of truth.
But writers wrote an’ singers sang
That ancient an’ well favoured song
The future’s here and it won’t belong
To anything but its own sweet self
Unfolding dreams a serene vision
Wraps itself in hollow shadows
Glowering truth upon its surface
Concealing shallowness by depth
It’s the common currency of deceit
Practiced so naturally by politicians.

In a world where all half truths
Are more dangerous than none
Taking sides does of necessity
Place yourself outside the truth
Of things that are truly eternal
An’ lets transience rule the soul
Revealing all that’s writ above
As deceit writhing down below
Boot heels in the worried earth
Churning up that fearful storm
Tearing stones to bleeding dust
Blinding audiences to madness
Dressed in vestments of sadness
To be born poor and beautiful
Is to really never stand a chance
In that rich an’ very ugly world
That taught us all how to dance
To the sound of magic in the air
Coloured flowers in our tresses
Stardust on our boot heeled feet
Dancing visions along the street
Before the nightmare kicked in
And the coloured lights fled out
Leaving us all in black and white
Lost for days at the lack of light
In our stylised monochrome hell
Taking a chance on another dance
With the dark side of that moon
Spinning alone in a broken room
Fixing thoughts on a turning table
Flowing from the eye of a needle
Stitched some souls to living hell
Burning music to the pits as well
To rise again in sounding beauty
Today tomorrow an’ all eternity.

The wild sound of creation and destruction
Drove that Mercedes all the way from Texas
Wrapping it round the lamppost of America
Creating light and darkness in a single image
Wrecking tranquillity was her daytime occupation
Creating havoc her favourite night time passion
A constellation of starlit bourbon harmony
In the comfort zone of her southern hospitality
The Divine Creatrix of her own stellar universe
And the born destroyer of everything before her
Time and space an empty canvas for her image
Each single moment a vast horizon of homage
Nothing moves the stillness beyond her presence
Worlds collapse to nothingness by her caprice
And heaven itself a single jewel on her costume
Hell a mere facet of her beautiful endless terror
Saviours saints devils and sweet singing angels
Baubles on a necklace she wears for pleasure
Mere vanity in her divine imagination of mirrors
The sound of her voice rocks the vastness of time
Rendering infinity past before it happens
No one ever messes or dares drive a Porsche
In the presence of a blue jeaned Kali from Texas.

There’s a pawn shop broking on the corner
Doin’ some good business
As the venerable beads of the abacus announce
Their returns
An’ the parking lot hasn’t a lot of what
It was equipped for
Meanwhile the pillars of salt are crumbling

Flickering signs changing all the times
For the manys
Whilst flashing on for enlightenment
Of the fews
Broken light’s dancing on the pavement
It’s a sign on the shoes
While the sun blinds up as regular

These are the good times for the bad
Robbers of the daylight
Even better times for curtains
Nobody’s payin’ any attention to anybody
Stuttering out their views
We’re just watching a concerto
Making an overture to the blues.

Enclosed in stone each transient soul is lost
Untouched of creation or by human thought
Until that moment of descending liberation
Ignites the flame of our fervent imagination
Breaking chains of imprisoning solid inertia
Shattering slabs of gravity buried in marble
Releasing mortal dreams of liberty and beauty
Carved from matters shackling solid prism
Thus we are the stone that slays the stone
The similar to the similar liberates freedom
Crushing tyrants into broken endless dust
The very matter from whence we came to be
And to which all souls shall return eternally
To rise again in renascent beautiful symmetry
Reincarnated in the image of the solid flesh
Gazing at a philistine crumpled on the dirt.

I went singing to your outer heaven
but nothing moved within.
Then my voice turned to ice
frozen by the gaze
of your cold and luminous no.

I went dancing to your inner hell
but the flames fired without.
Then my feet turned to ashes
smouldering on the precipice
of your burning cruel denial.

I went smiling to your welcoming eyes
but nothing flickered there.
Then my lips turned to dust
lashed beyond the void
of your lids’ stunning eclipse.

I went loving to your secret self
but emptiness was there.
Then my heart turned to shards
stranded in the ruins
of your other sense of being.

I went soaring to your angel eyrie
but shadows lingered there.
Then my flight turned to eagles
blasted by the revelation
of your vast golden dwelling.