A collection of lies...maybe... |
I am a mystic Spawned in the sweet Sargasso Sea And raised with robbers on the railways of Rhode Island Destruction is my spirit’s milk I only speak the truth I am of the belief that two mouse equals meece But I remain undisguised, up front, and settled Defined by one thought that’s always within reach I am blessed with the gift of dispassion Bridled by indifference My mama is a llama, but we are not related My father is a tortoise in the sand I know a man called Flawless Together we are an American Eagle Utopia My laughter is sunlight, faintly flashing in a forest where the zebra takes its nap My body runs on lightning My body runs on porridge My body runs on sales tax from your purchase of milk and cheese In my dreams I catch the kindly Capuchin The sloth is too swift and I fall behind As a child I walked the banks of Snake River And I found a gypsy who carried the secret of life in her knapsack I soon grew adept in the art of spoonerisms And I’m always certain of where I belong Knowing all and seeing all, I am the lord of understanding Throwing off blankets of ramen and gift wrap, I face the winter bare and unarmed and alive I shout out profanities against the silence of cafeteria chatter and classroom buzzing I always take the path of patience The sidewalk of sincerity The boulevard of the blameless And I feel that all is right in the world |