Words are simply syllables, meant to make sense
Interpretations confound, confusing us hence
Though letters abound, like the quick brown fox
Jumps over the lazy dog, de-tail gets caught in de-fence


Because we’re sentenced and bound, to the past and future tense
Unless our senses astound us in momentary depty


Reality, why do words distort thee
Turning what we touch and feel
Into Pun-ography


Spoken in honesty, interpreted ridiculously
Twisted in our ear drums, screw drives our reality


See… Quicksand sucks you down slowly homie
And when I tried to grab the fog, I mist
And if you missed the metaphor for societal sacred silence
Scrye the low clouds till you get a gist


Just don’t rag on any chicks, I’m serious
PMS jokes are wrong… Period


I’m in the back of the car, rolling quick on the tar
I’m a dyslexic man, getting drunk in a bra


And if horrific is so horrible Terrific must be worse
At time I think, these words are cursed
Rags to riches, my lips are pursed
Can’t touch the mist, it’s still dispersed


I overlook reality and oversee my plans
I overlook divinity and only see demands
God only laughs when I tell them my plans
Because beings beyond bodies never rule with iron hands


But that’s my two cents, plus a penny for your thoughts
God’s in threes is what gets taught
But God is one too, and two’s a duel
So four’s for us, numerology is cool


But I’d rather just stay with this word game on stage
Let’s call it, a word play
Where I’m up all night wondering where’s the sun
When it dawns on me, and life is fun


And everything changes, seasons turn
And you might get fired by Mr. Burns
Without twists and turns, we would never see the swirls
Pretty curls at the very epicenter of our world


D-N-A A-N-D serpentine geometry
Sing this to a Jesus freak, they might freak
Which is fine, cuz they is what they be


And I am what I am, so nothing is enough
Hearts entwined by the power of love
And love is just a word, don’t even get me started
.... for real!


If progress is the opposite of congress, politics are pro con
Presidents offending from the office
Setting precedents for us, but it’s possibly just
A metaphor for the way our minds control us


And minds use words, words are the whips
Directing the herd, away from the bliss
So if you heard, learn to listen, sit in silence, seek the bliss
Until positioned in a state of peace


When thoughts, and words, and minds, align
We find divinity’s in reach