You've been minus-molded
by big parent media village.
Taught to worship idol's of human teck.
Forgetting who we really are, daily.
Flawed, because they are flawed.
Religious syndron's excepting depressant eyes.
Some rascal's rebel, on the quick.
Pitching the little pink pills.
Like smoke they dull-fade as age hits.
A dreamer is willing to dye, dye constantly.
Joy of the brief point venture.
No obesity feared with whats next, or whats not.
The light is off, and we are all whistling.
Should just Satan and almighty deep-hold.
Come what unknown, and dream-doing.
Don't dim with giving belly-up.
Let go of the moonshine, and cloud nine.
Someone else gave it a name.
Like Nirvana, and the word redemption
All in the inner village.
Copyright © Johnathon Souders | Year Posted 2009