Mind explodes all over the windshield
I always hated driving
Big oak desk melts into ash under your feet
I always loathed organization
TV explodes into mushroom clouds
Too much direct propaganda
I always preferred moments in life when I was informed indirectly: a cowboy along the trail mentioned some bad weather up north could be heading this way.
At these old cross roads
What ya gonna do boy
Life to the west
love to the east
Torn by the choices you make
Can you live comfortably in the easy life
Will you ever be able to live in the days of the eagle spirit
Will you turn yellow as your liver crashes into the bourbon sea
Your ship could catch fire
Crash into the rocks of the coast with no lighthouse to be found
Will you turn grey with a fake passport
Fall dead of a heart attack with your child upon your shoulders
Lose your mind in dementia as you straighten your tie
You miss you wife intensely as you vomit last nights party on the bathroom floor
All this idealism of fruitless existence really really hurts