Hiding in light, disguised as the night

Voices of silence describing your plight

Running in circles, displaying no sense

Trapped in illusions, your own mental fence

Awaiting some guru to show you the Way

 Without any answers, except that you pay

Cash in advance, no we don’t take cheques

There’s no guarantee if you don’t connect

Pictures of porcupines dotting the sky

Electric echidnas who never ask why

Thanks for the mammories, what is your name?

Emotional madness is only a game

We play with each other but nobody cares

Dreams trapped in bubbles, sold as cheap wares

Filling the warehouse with clouds of despair

Hiding the wisdom that nobody shares

About who you are or who you may be

As long as you don’t interrupt their t.v.

Sense of reality, nailed to the wall

Of invented neuroses ingrained through the fall

They had long ago, before you were born

When began creation, the Spoken Word dawn

Cash in advance, no, we don’t take cheques

There’s no guarantee if you don’t connect

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