untitled

the mind outlives the body
the soul enters through the gates of all time and reality
in another lifetime, we say
but what else can we bring forth to the gates of eden
saint jacob and his song are at a loss
the wobbly way to the wicked dismay
live a life of destiny, just to find out your in a box
boxed in, more like the boxed inn
shelving drawers and paper bags
living off plantation sands
the water all comes down when the sun shines
on a bright sunny day, the rain does fall
into moments whisper, dead, so calm
a scuffle in the back room
a basement leading nowhere
how do we get from place to place
our perception at hand will forever fill our grace
he's slow you think but you do not know
the man said perseverance
the wobbler, to and fro
beggars cash, a monetary worth
figure the numbers
no people, less dirt
wadding hundred dollar beers in their hand
the beers mean bills and the eye of the tiger
shot of whiskey forlorn
only wiser's, jack, jim, jimmy, parade
let the trumpet burst for you reckon the day will come
to speak the words on set in illusions of the dusk
minded times to see the muddle
ask the kind folk about their struggle
the gates of eden are yonder now
back to the grind
a new story to tell
so tired no sleep bang on the drum
tick tock tick tock the time has come
ready your bags and lock the door
the future is about to take you bye storm