I'm busy busy busy
I'm late I'm late I'm late
I've got to meet a rabbit
I've got to meet my fate

For if you trip and stumble
And take a long long fall
You might take some comfort
In the writing on the wall

It says the cakes a lie!
The roses never were red!
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
The last words that they said

There's no time for fantasy
The world's out of hand
Visit Alice another time
Curse that wonderland

We're living in the matrix
Dot dash, dot dot dot dash
We just have to accept it
As we wait for it to crash

One foot in and one foot out
Abstractify, you lazy lout
Yes, I'm sure reality's an illusion
But I can't afford to live in confusion

.
.
.
Tucked away

   down deep


    buried under pages of memories



under folds of aging grey/gray cells



where we put them when no one was looking



then we piled days upon days on top of them



until one by one they became forgotten




like the names etched on stone in the forest of monuments



such are the secret sorrows that go to the grave with us
.
.
.
and only God knows