Saturday, January 11, 2014

Deck Hands and Chairs for the Band

There's pain and despair
Rain falls and clouds fill the air 
Fire flames and wars rage
Rats gettin' fat trapped in their cage
Living without a care 
like the world isn't ours to share. 
History repeating, page after page. 
It's time to open your eyes if ya dare
Time to face the nightmare

Or bury your head, say instead 
"Others troubles aren't ours to bear..." 
Stop, stare, then when ya see 
the darkness closin' in from everywhere
pull an about-face on the nightmare

Return to ya bubble
Forget the toil, turmoil,
the bodies buried 
And smokin' rubble
Double down on life 
without a trouble or care
Bury your head anywhere!
Keep flipping through ad books named
Cosmo, People, and Vanity Fair

Things fallin' apart 
while we grind out senseless music
Pretending it's art
Poppin pills to "lose it!"
Life's tough, but Molly'll soothe it
Jaws clenchin' when ya use it
500mg of Mg oughta loosen it
After she gets ya mind 
to grind with the music 

Auctions for pointless art
Insanity and vanity off the chart
The status elite doesn't come cheap
Wealthy sheep celebrating 
the ordinarily temporary contemporary 
Embarrassingly exemplary 
Of logic and reason's scarcity

Millions for a painting 
While millions die waiting 
Caught in wars raging over
Finance and trading
The world needs saving
And it's humans I'm blaming

We're reading words without meaning
and it's got the masses teeming for more
Another Hollywood war 
knocking at the door
The next feud, the next fight
All keeping reality far from sight
Something's wrong, 
but it's got us feeling right

Distraction in action as we listen to the voice of a generation
who's got nothing to say. 
Applying "genius" to money and fame
showin that fool and genius can mean the same

Feuds and disputes staged on stage
Actors and feigned rage
just selling ads on the entertainment page
Grabbing all they can before the fame fades
and empty accolades
are replaced by empty days. 

The masses in a maze
driven to a daze
by flashing lights and variations on the same
that never fail to amaze. 
Craze after craze
dancing to the same songs that we've always played. 

In time there comes a day
When the piper says it's time to pay
And what will we say 
When we've got pockets empty
With no change in the tray?

It's not that ya always 
gotta have something to say
And there's nothing wrong 
with playing just to play
But we're neck deep
In the mass of trash 
Always adding to the heap
Piling higher and higher, day after day
Just to collect from the millions willing
to pay for the rehash of noise and scrap from yesterday

And it seems as if today, 
While the ship tips and sinks
Nobody blinks or thinks
of a single thing to say
To the band and deck hands as they
continue to work and play.