Broken Glasses

Here on a mission
Cursed with human condition
Balance eludes me
Like a girl who won’t call back

Rest wrestles with restlessness
Peace and strife, that silly pair
Always fucking and fighting
Get a room, you two

The God thing, the Ego thing
God gets edged like a sidewalk
Next to breasts or an R8
And he knows it, poor thing

I’m trying down here,
I’m really trying – I swear
But it’s war down here
What with these hormones and bill collectors
And those soft pretzles with the cinnamon sugar –
Do you know which ones I’m talking about?

I mean, honestly God, what’s with the onslaught?
See you no other way
This fool can be taught?
It’s like a goddamn see-saw down here
What with the ups and the downs
And I get it now
Sometimes I see,
And sometimes I saw…

Just don’t let me step on those glasses
When I come back down to Earth.

Advertisements