Ambulation

The quest for higher energy, higher abilities Has become too trite The savages always come by at 3 in the ante meridiem And they seem to drain anything away that was built up This shouldn't be a surprise As the dam was merely composed of hollow thougths When the calm of the center is needed The vampires come to play with the dendrites The hum of the piercing lights at 7-11 drives an insatiable need To feast on the flesh of corn chips and the uneven axis of contemplation Ah, the joys of a million subversive self-intentions And the revelation that everything is sprinkled with the delicious salt of soul sweat Yes it is easy to love the flowers burgeoning from the bones Of the inside-out mastadon Because the casinos will never close The spectors operating the control panel revel in these morning hours Shall the dance with the unnecessary electrons begin? Stretch a dream over the face and walk through this life