Tears falling like the pretty happy spring rain
Is it ok Sunshine, to be a little happy insane?
if only the moon would water my soul
make me fly and dance with the ghosts
of control, or self-control
or having too many goals
with no morals or directions
just color-coded rules and inflections
stammering doctors and injections
Is it ok Sunshine, to be a little happy divine?
make me fly, make me rise and shine
make me try, and try I do
but I wish I was you
A smiley-faced-pill dressed in glue
but I wish I was you
A smiley-faced-pill dressed in glue
I fear Bill Gates with all of his evil plans
he has a plan to get rid of me, I suppose
Some people think I’m crazy
The truth is I’m not—I just see things
that other people believe are dots
But at least I don’t turn people into robots
They call me med-resistant
I call it hesitancy
They call me anti-establishment
I say I have more merits than your
Plutocracy
I think the FBI is watching me
But they say that I’m paranoid
Google isn’t out to get me
They just want to sell my data
So I can be exploited.
Call it a conspiracy theory
Maybe we’re all in some 2D simulation
either way, we don’t know
which direction the colors run
all I know is that I should be
a raging ember angry person
But instead
I don’t even have to smoke weed
to know, that you all blow
and you can blow me
Just like Olney
and all you long-haired
wannabe gangster dealer hippies.
Oh no here comes the man
here is comes and he had a plan
he says he works for the FBI
and that Bill Gates hired him
through Google Inc. because
and there goes the kitchen sink
everyone try not to blink
He’s reading this right now
Holy cow! maybe Im not crazy
Holy cow, and I thought
I was lazy…but anyways
I’m sure there is a solution
to this thought pollution
there is a way out of the never-ending maze
of contortions and riddles
and fiddling conspiracies
and grand-epic-new-age theories
hmmmm
but not everyone heard the call
and not everyone is a nerd like me
not everyone gets it
even though they like to pretend to agree
or pretend they could be me.
Sadly
Sadly
Sadly
Sadly
Poetry is not the remedy
and there is no cure for sadness
and there is no cure for my madness
because love is madness
and the sky is full of sorrow
for all my badness.