mushrooms and wine
everyone feeling fine
as we stare into the future
all we see is a black vulture
our lives seem small
even though our dreams are tall
our thoughts encompass humanity
but sometimes it seems like insanity
silently or with great fanfare
driven insane by the "dare"
stoically moving forward
like some huge demeted canard
lambs in the slaughterhouse of life
yet innocent and without strife
who are we really?
do you see it clearly?
do you know?
if so, do you really grow?
do you even care?
or do you just think about the "dare"?
what if all you know is wrong
and you may as well be smoking a bong
what if it's all a dream within a dream
and you're really just blowing off steam?
what if tomorrow you wake up
and realise that you're just a pup
the world you know gone
enthroned in the zone
gone without a trace
leaving only an empty space
caught in the mists of time
the moment truely sublime
and still the moment vanishes
like a bunch of week-old radishes
orphans at the mercy of the beast
or that's what I think, at least!
maniacs all of us
depraved and possessed
inspired by madness
driven to extremes of sadness
we don't want to do it
nobody wants to think about it
what if the future is a dream
what if all is not as it may seem
what if the dream is a nightmare
and all we can do is stare
trying to move forward
but it seems we can only go backward
guided only by something called instinct
and yet to us, from reality, it seems distinct
all thought lost
all fantasy is as frost
vapour that swirls endlessly unfullfilled
for demons and dogs and others suitably pilled
warriors and wimps
we are Gods, not shrimps!