jump to navigation

At the Diagnostic Center September 21, 2011

Posted by The Typist in Toulouse Street, We Are Not OK.
trackback

somebody may die tonight
& nobody knows when
pour a little whiskey
turn off CNN
the sky is full of stars that float
like candles in a field
surrender up the gravity
let your body yield.

tomorrow you may wake up
to some alarming news
the coffee pot, the ticking clock
the office socks and shoes
tonight there are no messages
nobody’s making deals
surrender up the gravity
let your body yield.

some think they’re the masters
but everyone’s a slave
dig your share of treasure
& make yourself a grave
you buy your weekly ticket
but you know your fate is sealed.
surrender up the gravity
let your body yield

the system’s full of sickness
& someone’s going to die
’cause the cure is much too painful
let the sleeping dogs all lie
swallow all your medicine
& pray you will be healed
surrender up the gravity
let your body yield.

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: