Wake up to all your linens damp and covered in sweat, interrupting pleasant dreams about a readjusted thermostat It’s said the universe’ll probably expand up to the point where all the heat in it vanishes, and ain’t it hypnagogic to deny the same logic to man? But you were feeling mighty haughty ‘cause you got a couple minutes of leeway back And now we’re headed down the opposite track Witness the truer end of history: a stubborn inability to study the past And all that you’ve theorized naively is that our laces will never go ahead and untangle themselves So now you’re hastening to usher in the new world order (Let me clarify - the lowercase one; unipolar) But even then you’re only choosing the parts that serve to complement your narrative’s heart What from an inch away is blurry from a distance is discernably art Every hegemony is bound to claim they’ve found the higher ground …until they’re jumping hurdles all the way down it Witness the truer end of history: a stubborn inability to study the past And all that you’ve theorized naively is that our laces will never go ahead and untangle themselves With a tranquilized bull and a cup half full, it’s an easy mistake, but the cracks in the glass mean its level won’t last in this “opportune” state And really what is the use when injustice so profuse is deemed the best we can maintain? The arc of progress bends towards better, but everything that bends can too…break! And that’s the end of history: it’s not that our capacity for greater is maxed out But that we would rather willingly pull the trigger, even though the barrel’s aimed at ourselves

A snowball held indoors again: The greatest hoax - or so the story goes, If you deny the melt and trust what’s felt Only to your senses, not the science told and dealt But I guess sometimes the answer that you find Isn’t the notion that you had in mind and Does your conviction make it right Or only spark a fire as the air ignites? Your connotations, antiquated, indicate perspectives that you take And if you’re ignorant to all of it, It’s harder to acknowledge, But your upper hand exists regardless Even if the answer that you find Isn’t the notion that you had in mind, but Does your conviction make it right Or only spark a fire as the air ignites? (I think something’s burning up Where’d all this smoke come from?) No winner lives by the rules of their game Control is always automatically arranged before the party lines are drawn Presented like they’ve nothing to gain, Or ingested, claiming that the stomach will not churn Eppur si muove Maybe the answer that you find Isn’t the notion that you had in mind, But does your conviction make it right Or only spark a fire or serve to spread one farther?

It’s never more than want and need of the ability to own what can destroy Good weapons in the hands of righteous people who can be deployed to single out any threat to us are quick to double down on everyone else The images of abject madmen tend to mirror those who claim they do no wrong It’s all about protecting “freedom;” a freedom under loaded gun Your golden notion of liberty sure looks to me like casualties And it ain’t no secret now, my friend, that something needs to change You can make it better, but all you’re offering keeps these wounds so tender Horror strikes, send thoughts and prayers, the same bullshit charade Dying in American skin or reared to live afraid I know you think you’re persecuted, but the nation is made a victim of your fear When any given stranger is evil and somehow you’re the hero in the clear While you cower at government…but never the right specific suspects If this is really our best effort, my spirit isn’t gone but it’s fading fast Running through the same few motions Taught to play the barefoot waltz on glass while everyone has a say But those who talk fast often act last Can we reach for a caliber higher than this? Something needs to change You can make it better, but all you’re offering keeps these wounds so tender Interest talks and big bucks stalk as more just walk the plank Thrown overboard to feed the sharks so you can lick your plate It’s really a sad, sad state we’re in: denial or wishful insert thinking "Now’s not time for this,” but sure, buy in, we’ll sell and blink when Horror strikes, send thoughts and prayers, the same bullshit charade Dying in American skin or reared to live afraid Can’t this shit just stop yet? In this broken time, we only think in zero-sum fallacies; what helps you only hinders me The authors’ unsaid lines can grant us all our livelihood but also from the grave be obsolete And in this broken time, where everyone feels some degree of shattered, only we condemn the shards, it seems So take a place in line, pleading for these editors and publishers to raise another ending Know we’re not all evil Hope we’re not too far gone yet But this bearing arms for despairing, long-lost hearts …cannot be a solution …promotes more execution What choice left but rebuking this American sin?

The kind believe in those who grieve at tragedy The wise believe in those who act un-cued The strong believe the kind and wise too meek to disagree The weak believe their time is overdue And these examples outline how society will challenge change, but never all at once The simple fact is nerve and tact don’t harmonize easily And as we pray for rain, the searing sun…sun…sun… …brings with it a drought to the masses in vital need And as the kings bathe and wash their hands of each speck of dust The middle man begs through lost channels for each to perceive the other’s pleas He’ll be the first to face their wrath when they’ve had enough “You’re complicit in our suffering,” yell the desperate “They’d build from sand,” the top says, “if they’re smart And you’ll sit where you are, and claim waiting pays dividends,” Insisting that the wrest can still be won…won…won… With one little push and our heels up against the edge You think you can reason with us? Try reasoning gravity next! The middle man’s sure he can cure the impure with a call to their decency He’s the first to see just how decent people can get “I thought I could trust you” I thought I could trust me, too So how the sun gave us life and figured we’d be obliged to honor its reverence and chase coexistence through time and tense And preserve what we “earned" with a firm but humane defense We can’t all be winners in even the whitest lies “Hate sinning, not sinners” only counts if they don’t take lives And the Niemöller parable’s there on your night table paid no mind With the door bolted shut as the wolves roam on through the night

It’s damn hard having a heart When life’s falling apart and I can’t see through the mist And the fear that always anchors me here will only disappear If I move forward despite it Not by blankly staring at my shoes Twice knotted and confused how the laces always trip me Pass a nervous chuckle back and then politely ask “heard any good jokes lately? (besides me)" It’s work even having a soul When the steeplebells toll for every role I found hope in Am I cursed for inferring the worst will occur Or has worse already been set in motion? ‘Cause all it seems like I've been told by people who should know is that with age I’ll become colder, Grow compliant to the fold, but now that I feel old, all the weight is on my shoulders And I can afford to shrug that burden down To magnify the blame on someone else We all tout pain on days indifference swells But what, in vain, does that chain letter spell for us? What came first? The music or the misery? The manic or the melody? The sadness or sobriety or song? If they’re all so inextricable, inaction’s unforgivable But in certain situations, motivation’s guilt and does more harm than help Then one more light goes out and like a stone I’m still, when kindness - just like grief - is contagious So kick me off my stupid, sullen ass, get me to treasure what I have And then head out into the world to make tiny changes Tiny changes Tiny changes Tiny changes to Earth and to me (‘Cause hope starts with thee)

Is it Inauguration Day? I can’t envision much will change New slate of faces, same old plight If we’re all beggars anyway, why is struggle always ascertained as proof of failure and not of drive? What brand of free will would proclaim, that "If you want to live, then pay” and hand the cost on down the line? My brother’s father passed away and a kid I knew from second grade would always cry at Christmastime I didn’t want to ask why - had to assume they’d be fine, healed by the passing of time and a little more solicitude and care It’s easier unaware But I am here and I am breathing Will not grovel though I’m kneeling Don’t you pull this plug till I give my word I am here if you have motioned to abandon every person strong enough to seek help when they’re hurt I am here and I have meaning or I could if you would just let me live Don’t pull this plug till I give my word Not until you've received my accord So now it’s just another day I can’t envision much will change, but see you on the other side (How long to sing this song on and on...)