Lyrics

Some claim the spotlight’s glow confounds,
water flows to the roots
lodged underground,
that fame will use, then kill
its sheared black sheep,
willing stock brought to market on repeat.

I want to be the sultan
sleeping under the trees in the town:
but I’ll never get there putting people down.

so sign the petition
and pick your position:
admission’s how much life you can give.
will you
give them what they came for?
ask why they play this game for?
show them they can give it back too?
What about you?

Our dates descend the mansion stairs,
appetize our delusions;
we’ve ceased to care,
and lust for honors, heirlooms, love to keep
like formaldehyde flowers
and jewels bequeathed.

It’s not a lurid sham,
cocaine, couture, or glam
but choice to voice the life you see.
Our culture’s fee:
silence chains up the graveyard
though the pulse of song decrees
we bleed and we breathe.