"My Poor Friend Me"

i know a man
who doesnt have many friends
i know a place he lives
where trouble never ends
i know its hard for him
to read 'tween the lines
and his days are getting so much shorter
he simply turns away
instead of bearing down
his ship is crumbling
his crew is one of clowns
he doesnt care
as long as he can wear the crown
i know this man all too well
its my poor friend me
a portrayal of the great dichotomy
(a reminder of a tragic history)
its my poor friend me
and im running out of steam
i know there are people
who are cynical and vane
they point their finger
'cuz they can't accept the blame
they live their lives
under a blanket of shame and their progeny
crawl from underneath it
lately i've come
to see the solution
and it begins with me
but i'm so fallibly human
i've picked the lot

"Lookin' In"

suddenly, it came to me
a potent dosage of reality
i saw myself in the broad daylight
and it made me think
about life
im not the kinda guy
who nods his head
with closed eyes
i scoff at labels
i defy censuses
and despise group mentality
all along i through
that this was only human
but i know now that
i'm in the minority
i'm lookin' in
now i think in relation to
my fellow man
and what strives to do we fail to see
theres no compromise
our evolution
is our demise
one day you may find
that you are also one of me
a micrososm
of the human race
observing those around us
desiring to belong
behing the guise of salvation
we suffer along the way
we're lookin' in

"Don't Pray On Me"

A grizzly scene on my electron beam
Told a story about human rights
So all of King's horses and all of King's men
Had a riot for two days and nights
Well, the city exploded but the gates wouldn't open
So the company asked him to quit
Now everybody's equal
Just don't measure it

Well, Hanson did it to Hester
And Mark David did it to John
And maybe Jack did it to Marilyn
But he did it to South Vietnam
For beauty and glory
For money, love, and country
Now everybody's doing it
Don't do that to me

A bitter debate and a feminine fate
Lie in tandem like two precious babes
While the former gets warmer, it's the latter that matters
Except on the nation's airwaves
And custodians of public opinion stayed back
After vainly discussing her rights
Lay hands off her body
It's not your fucking life

Now I don't know what stopped Jesus Christ
From turning every hungry stone into bread
And I don't remember hearing how Moses reacted
When the innocent first born sons lay dead
Well, I guess God was a lot more demonstrative
Back when he flamboyantly parted the sea
Now everybody's praying
Don't pray on me

"Modern Day Catastrophists"

take those potatoes out of your ear
listen to the warnings
verify all your fears
there's a world outside
that's ready to blow
and we're all to blame
when it finally explodes
you gotta listen up
gotta listen to what
they're telling you
gotta listen up and think
about what they're saying to you
they're the modern day catastrophists
they've got practical solutions
(know all the right equations)
they're the self-appointed
righteous pragmatists
and they know 50 ways
to save the world
what makes you think
you can cure our disease?
maybe its just our biology
maybe its time to make room
for another species
this is the 21st Century

"Skyscraper"

Come let us make bricks and burn them hard,
We'll build a city with a tower for the world
and climb so we can reach anything we may propose,
anything at all

Build me up, tear me down
like a skyscraper
Build me up, then tear down
These joining walls
So they can't climb at all

I know why you tore it down that day
You thought, that if you got caught we'd all go away,
Like a spoiled little baby who can't come out to play,
You had your revenge

Build me up, tear me down
like a skyscraper
Build me up, then tear down
these joining walls
So they can't climb at all

Well madness reigned and paradise drowned
When Babel's walls came crashing down
Now the echoes roar for a story writ ["for a story told" is the live version]
that was hardly understood
and never any good

Build me up, tear me down
like a skyscraper
Build me up, then tear down
these joining walls
So they can't climb at all

Build me up [x2]

"Incomplete"

mother, father, look at your little monster,
I'm a hero, I'm a zero,
I'm the butt of the worst joke in history,
I'm a lock without a key,
a city with no door, a prayer without faith,
a show without a score,
I'm a bad word, a wink, a nod, a shiver,
an untold story, sex without purity,
a creeping gray memory,
I am incomplete....incomplete....incomplete....incomplete

doctor, cure me; what is the cause of my condition,
this madness shoots me,
like bullets smashing glass in a silent movie,
I'm a trap without a spring,
a temple with no god,
a jack without an ace,
the tip of your tongue,
I'm a promise, an unmailed letter,
an unbuilt motor, deck without a joker,
a creeping gray memory
I am incomplete....incomplete....incomplete....incomplete

tell Saint Peter not to bet on me,
I got a naked obsession,
a good intention gone bad,
I am incomplete....incomplete....incomplete....incomplete

"Leave Mine To Me"

there are desperate times upon us,
there are codes of white and black,
political resentment and people start to crack,
there's hate and opposition,
there's fumbling dialog,
yet you sit there and judge me
and you think it makes a difference

if you think I'm all alone you are foolishly wrong,
there's an entire army who blindly follow along,
and you happen to be one of them believe it or not,
even though you try not to be we are of the same plague

the other ways we're taught to fear,
don't even scratch the surface of the problem here,
I'm not blind, and I'm not scared,
so many crucial factors exist out there,
and we're but one, and they're bout two,
and how we come to terms will help us pull through

things cannot change too fast,
it took us this much time,
to reach our current platform and walk this fragile line,
if I thought I'd make a difference I'd kill myself today,
but so many are like me lost in the fray

you create your own reality,
and leave mine to me

"Stranger Than Fiction"

a febrile shocking violent smack
the children are hoping for a heart attack,
tonight the windows are watching,
the streets all conspire,
and the lamppost can't stop crying,
if I could fly high above the world,
would I see a bunch of living dots spell the world stupidity?,
or would I see hungry lover homicides,
loving brother suicides,
and olly olly oxenfrees,
who pickaside and hide

the world is scratching at my door,
my morning papers got the scores,
the human interest stories, and the obituary

cockroach naps and rattling traps,
how many devils can you fit upon a match head?,
caringosity killed the Kerouac cat,
sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

in my alley around the corner,
there's a wino with feathered shoulders,
and a spirit giving head for crack and he'll never want it back,
there's a little kid and his family eating crackers like thanksgiving
and a pack of wild desperados scornful of living

the worlds is scratching at my door....

cradle for a cat, Wolfe looks back,
how many angels can you fit upon a match?
I want to know why Hemingway cracked,
sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

life is the crummiest book I ever read,
there isn't a hook, just a lot of cheap shots,
pictures to shock and characters an amateur would never dream up

"Tiny Voices"

the brown and orange sky holds its breath
as the sun retreats to the distant horizon,
and our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon will lay supine,
and wait for sleep to overcome us

and from somewhere in our black,
subconscious minds when we're asleep,
comes a haunting swelling mass of voices,
resonating, its screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence,
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense

tiny voices, echoes of our heritage,
our long and sallow faces turn the other way,
tiny voices, harbored deep within
as we outwardly deny that they have something to say,
and if we don't confront them they will never go away

the billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky
filled with poignant morose wonder,
waking a bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoil
which we carry deep inside

"The Handshake"

every time you shake someone's hand and it feels like your best friend,
could it be that it's only superficiality?,
without regard to well-being, without an inkling of compromise,
handshakes are nothing but a subtle "fuck you",
contracts determine the best friendships

this is the way of the modern world, everyone's vying for patronage,
this is the way of the modern world, and something has gotta give

every time you shake someone's hand,
and you share neither color or creed,
you gotta overcome the obstacles of history,
there is restrained passion, mistrust, and bigotry

and these have created the new foundations of society,
there's no harmony just class and race

this is the way of the modern world,
everyone's fighting for dominance,
this is the way of the modern world,
and something has gotta give

now I believe in unity, and I am willing to compromise,
but I'm not gonna lie or sell my soul

every time you shake someone's hand,
it determines where you stand,
and if you won't uphold your side then it's better to
fend for yourself, and shun the handshake,
someone's gotta give