The business world made me so the business world takes me
Violins playing silent hymns at the funeral of napolean
Surrounded by the black cubicles that molded him
Eroding him, his spirit, since he left the womb of youthfulness
And found himself in this land of useless, putrid gifts
He used to loved to frolic above the toxins
But something abruptly stopped this
He made pauses, in loving his moral duties
His scrutiny toward his future progeny
Was bottling because
He bottled them inside a spot of tea
He drank with the corporate queen
Because Happiness just takes some work
But most Postmortem's free
Dancing in a puppet life like "Morphine Me!"
Of course, he leaves, each day
He steps into his car and drives to Dunkin's
That turns off his Moral Guidance function
Only socializing with what his ten-minute lunch brings
That talking dust
That might ask where the bathrooms located
When he answers
He's without the jazz he fashioned his old days with
It's locked in his basement, another middleclass mannequin
Another germ, in terms, doing little fast with an expansion kit
He bought with the time he patched up with bandages
A ragdoll, climbing Jacob's Intern - All Ladder
Vicously pretending his person matters
Existence drowned out by the Ringmaster's blood-curdled laughter
A craft or a task, no matter the madness
He took the job and tried to cast it
And succeeded every time because he mastered
Being a crafter of genius business tactices & products
But behind the logistics that amassed in his conscience
He found his past in a locket, he wore on his atrium
A key to the home that was safe to him
A page of hymns, and memories, looked like ants from his Exec. firm
Once again he felt romantic texture
Titanic gestures
beckoned to go back before his family would lose him
and he knew it'd feel good to be human
But what he would feel soon, he'd know not, so fuck it
MEMORY FLUSHED
Now it feels good to be a robot, a puppet
Yeah, this world made me, so I guess this world takes me..
links'll be up at 4:00 PM.. sorry no time... pz