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Michael McGuire
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Mind Under Matter
You open your mind and your mouth leaks out,
You spill what it never was and not about, You cast pity's fuse to the restless wind, You treat your ego like a hero and your enemy like a friend,
Afraid of the dark but much too afraid to admit it,
A dream leaks in but it stops before you can quit it,
Watch innocence put good up to evil, Search for the ruins of a man in the upheaval.
Busy making mountains,
Drying up the seas,
Trying to cure the symptoms,
With more of the disease.
The telephone is ringing the machine will fake a voice,
Chaos meets confusion in the freedom of a choice,
Ingredients of hunger; the diet of the dying, Ego baits the trap with a good excise for trying,
Bits of pieces falling into the circus ring,
A clown sweeps them up and says this don't mean a thing,
The audience is waiting; the performer's waiting too,
Now silence feeds the show each side waiting for its cue.
Busy making monsters,
And they mate with pretty girls,
And then morning sickness brides,
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Spit up brand new worlds.
And she turned away all teased up with the truth,
And I said don't close your eyes; I see the soul and secret of life in there,
And it is...
Eternity is calling; the days are peasant's time,
Death is calling highest court to make living life a crime,
The watermark of dreaming is higher than the tide,
Don't fancy love to fling a thought it's much safer left inside,
All these crushed bones falling; falling thru thin air,
They fall thru minds and ghosts and glass and all that's not really there,
And impotent prayers are raised to god and climbing sky,
And the builders build new tombs and help the dying die.
Busy making mountains,
Drying up the seas,
Trying to cure the symptoms,
With more of the disease.
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