Modern Problems

Modern Problems Look inside this feverdream we call Our Times: How we call ourselves masters of our lives Binding ourselves in chains of thoughts Forgetting powers we used to have When we were wild naked beasts Part of a world dangerous, strong, unfettered, Free in cycles of creation and dissolution, Balanced in a perfect dance With no meaning apart from itself. See how the world bleeds now From a thousand different wounds Opening and closing daily. See the men who live in fear Of animal tastes, Who cage their spirits in cells of confusion See the women, Cool and distant on hard city streets The dark fire they once carried Now burnt down and out, Empty, shapeless stones, hearts poisoned with suspicions Growing ever thinner... Thinner like shadows of a picket fence Fading into uncertain infinities of twilight - So look at this world we've made my child See how it turns against its ancient ways, In places now a thing once perfect Made weak and warped through our excess Watch, see how we older ones Changed with decisions things best left alone; Persist in your sweet childish madness Bravely believing in the magic we have ceased to see; Walk in dreams with your heads held high Proud to gather the beauty we've forgotten; Draw it into yourselves and love it With pure and simple souls Wed your childhoods to your spirits Hold it deep within as a sacred secret Hidden, but alive with hope of better days to come When you may fool the dry and empty ones And bring new life to this fools' desert, Our Times.