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I see you wear your lifestyle on your sleeve like a bloodstain from the war. And you don’t see just what you’ve got till the good things are out your door. And in classic style… you brave the miles and the fire within your soul… on a promise that the other side will find you to have grown.

But there’s a solitary man who spent a lifetime in the weeds… a passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. And if only just another round could keep his hopes alive… waitin’ for his big break to arrive.

So you work… you slave… you watch your days go slowly tickin’ by. You watch your YouTube playlist and wonder why you didn’t try… and the morning sun is up and starin’ right into your eyes. As you drive to work you squint and curse the years a flyin’ by.

But there’s a solitary man who’d give his left nut to succeed… a passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. And all the tea in China could not help him change his mind.. he’s waitin’ for his big break to arrive.

<==>

There’s a chance you oughta take it’s waitin’ right outside your door. But sometimes you fight with schemers and hustlers and end up on the floor. In a broken kind of gait you stumble closer to your cave… in a flash of sight… you find you might be better off a slave.

But there’s a solitary soul who’s got the right stuff… he believes. A passé sort of fate he’ll live to see. It’s a shame to think of all the happiness he’s passed by… waitin’ for that big break to arrive.

Solitary man things are never what they seem… and in time you might see what love really means. But the solitary answer to the question that you bring… lay between the path you’ve chosen and your dreams.

It’s between the path you’ve chosen and your dreams.

Spotify link… HERE

Behind Your Eyes

I… know… someone’s gotta go… there’s glue on my shoes. One foot out the door… one bag on the floor… one thing left to do and nothing more.

Someone behind your eyes led me to this end. But everything seemed to work so well… I’d probably fall again. Oh… no… please don’t you go… until I find out who it is.

When I wake up in the morning light I can smell the scent of wreckage just ahead. And ain’t it just like a straight-up chump to believe all the things that someone said. And those tears in your eyes are about to make me die… as you glance at me watching you walk on out the door.

Well… someone behind your eyes led me to this end. And everything seemed to work so well… I’d probably fall again… oh… no… please don’t you go until I find out who it is.

Well… just the other day I thought I saw you in the crowd… and clarity ripped off your disguise. And blew away the fog… revealed the only naked truth… IT’S ME… LYIN’ TO MYSELF!

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I… know… someone’s gotta go… there’s a lump in my throat. But just before you go… it might help you to know… I’m gonna be just fine ‘cos I’m not alone.

‘Cos… someone behind your eyes led me to this end… and everything seemed to fit so well… i’d probably fall again… oh… no… go ahead and go.

Go ahead… there’s the door… go ahead… I’m not alone.

I’ll be fine…
B-baby ‘cos I’m not alone…
Oh no no no no no no no no no no
I’ll be fine… ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh

Spotify link… HERE

The Thread

The town crier sent a message to the priest. Said he could not escape… said he couldn’t believe… the things he saw… the things he did… the nightmares in his head… the trouble.

The priest wrote back and began the thread. Said, try to relax… calm your noisy head. Said, all this has happened before… the corruption and the war. Exploitation… degradation… the slaughter of the innocents… it’s all gonna happen again.

again
…again
……again
………again

The walrus sent a message to his generals. Said, send those dirty bastards down a fiery hole. Don’t hesitate… don’t make me wait. These are evildoers… smite their bodies to the floor.

The general wrote back… and advanced the thread. Said try to think about this with a cooler head. Said, all this has happened before. The trouble and the war. The encroachment of the enemy… the brave heroes lost… it don’t have to happen again.

again
…again
……again
………again

But all along the world wide web… the words contained in the tiniest thread… stitch a patch quilt picture of truth… from Ramallah to the Hague… from Berlin to Jerusalem… from sea to shining sea… from the barrio to the penthouse suite…

What does it say about you?
What does it say about me?
What will it say about us?

Wiz and the Mojo Bar

He strode into a Mojo Bar and ordered up a shot, from his memory pack, pulled a snap of boardroom ballads setting up their day… they say it’s fair and…

Before we destroy the competition, screw the customers, and laugh all the way to the bank, let’s bow our heads to pray.

The Wiz pulls a payment card and smiles a morning cheer… cos batshit double tea hatters fill him with “the fear. ” Intrepid student wrecking crews steal victory from the jaws. While the self-driving uber fleets deliver hookers all night long.

And the planet… in a fit… swallows souls randomly. And 400 years go by as Cajuns hit the sand. But here and now… here at home… cops shoot kids skittishly. And everywhere it seems people rage to bring their guns.

The free exchange of dangerous ideas meant to deepen minds take a hasty exit on Eden highways where even rockers lose their souls. And laundry ladies pick stringed rhythm to the drying clothes. While bleach is for the eyes of federation mojo bros. Hands change in dollars and dimes. The Federation crowd looks inquisitive to the Wiz. But he breaks down in tears… falling from his crown like rain in Fat City. They want to help his trouble and his pain, but the Wiz just keeps cryin’. Where politician trains… cruel potential worlds… Colombian civil wars… end in time for rocky mountain stoners to load their bowls from the Mojo Bar.

Sympathy for the Constable

 

From the Loopcircus archives…

Perhaps we can come to grips with the dusty remnants of racism in our country. But while we grapple with the facts and what those facts mean, it’s important to appreciate the role police officers play in a world where human on human violence has been on a steady and sharp decline since the middle ages. These officers are human too… and very often they feel “called” to serve. compelled by a sense of duty … a force that makes them think they can help … that they should serve … and they do.