© 1996 Bryce Lankard ~ model: me

Nothing is simple on my mind

trying to unwind and the wind blows my hair further away from my head

I feel every breath it takes

and it annoys me

is that the point

solitude and empathy

reaching down in the depths of depravity

they’re marching in the streets now

after all that work we did when the monster was here

reaping his rewards

buying his dominican republic

sipping on the blood of patriots

while the world crumbled

and you think that the meanings are twisted

mirroring the rich

those depicted

wrenching the oblivion of the soul

till it all crumbles up

i wonder if they listened to the sound of their own thoughts

if they ever felt the wind nag at them

with it’s sultry breath

did it blow them away

there’s no escape for them today

better tell them to go out and play