transparencies

We build we dig. Dig up. Climb up. Get angry, get mad. Think you can make a change. That our power is strong. Seems like everyone is starting to think the same. Simple chords and repetition. Cycles of sound, pigging out. Keeping an eye on the supply, is it really all communal? What is my contribution? Hard to settle and it keeps coming up. Your imagination has power, it makes trails of bread all around my bed. Your music turned into pop songs that are just cycles of sound. Seems that everything has turned too see-through, like a transparent baby full of tubes. Its embarassing for you to act that way when I can see why. It does nothing but show the worst in you. Now I have a lemon tree and they all stare at me. There's something so sickly about this goodness. Its not original, and maybe not even an instinct. I'll take more sweet things full of fruit, I just don’t mean what I say. Wise guy. Bread and soup and no dairy. Domino dissent and a Friday feeling to boot, sugar coursing through my blood, a small radio sits silently. Ive just made myself feel better and you can too. Maybe it will be alright in the end.