THE HEADS

c 2014 Tristan Winter

What the hell is going on here

I often heard

And these days I say it

Like a monument a clock marking

Morality in some illusory dimension

Below all around me dancing rice

Frankly nazis eternally boiling

Cities farming baby bones

And in America they all quit

Cigarettes chainsmoke slogans instead

The heads are piling up man

These frogs are croaking out of order

Not knowing contradiction

Is not knowing compassion

And what you desire comes from fear

Only real desire is born of courage

So at night I leave the houses

Open for a quick getaway

I like floating my self says

You be back here by six young man