Angles
He knows so much now
that he no longer understands.
He's seen every different thing
and held them all in his hands.
He's examined every angle.
There are only so many angles for sale
in this three dimensional store....
And things are beginning
to not make sense
in the same way anymore.
His inner time has outrun the man.
His crumbling mind thinks residual thoughts;
trying to make sense of the coffin it walks:
"There was never a simpler time;
it just used to be new.
But then it gets old
and it complicates you.
The nostalgia kicks in
like a drug with a view.
But everyone comes down
and that wears off too."
Time to find a new angle dealer....
To get back up. To get high and ride.
To wake up that sleeping child inside.
But he's tucked in tight. He's turned out the light.
He's just too damn tired of searching tonight.
Searching for that right angle.
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