Good Ol’ Wheel

Good Ol’ WheelI don’t have to scream anymoreMy voice is silentYet my presence groundsBecause I’ve learned that true confidenceHides behind silenceThe real philosophers are those who listenBut rarely speakThose who ever accomplish anything are the strategic

Those the chess board can’t scare offThey become apprentices under game makersOnly they know they set out to replace themO’ the world’s good ol’ bona fide titlesTitles have never substituted the mindThe title creators were bred to say they did

The world as we know it was defined in the language of the good ol’ wheelCycle continues and either you’re one of us or outIf you’re one of us then you should know they all sold their soulsTo what they call the devilA fitting name for who looks back from the mirrorNo soul refunds hereIf you’re out, our incriminating testimonies have arrivedOh but we have everything dearEverything you told us believing that the game makers would be your confidante

You got a piece of torn off jacket nowAs you run away from the beastsA new breed these thingsWe call them the chaser for creepsLurking in the shadowsPretending you’re one of usYou shall be displacedInto the cathedrals of lust you shall be erasedNo man could run away from the arms of a loving womanAnd even you’d never fall behind

You kept on walkingAs the hard winter accompanied youTearing the sewage marks of your skinLeaving symbols behind for the next kid to pass byMy dear old boy you were sold on the oldest lieFifty shades of green wouldn’t be enough to cover up your why

Those lights seem a little offShould we send them to an asylum to get byOh and the news have started talkingThey’re talking about youHow you disappeared and lost your wayApparently those you once called your friendsThey were sadThey did all they could to save youBefore they agreed you had to be the one that got awayThe one who could not be saved

Tell me dear boyDo you believe in what they say about you in the newsCan you still listen to your own mindYou don’t look at the market guyWear a cap, sunglasses, hope it disappearsWhat if it won’t?

Sir, you forgot your change he calls outWhile you pretend to have full volume in what’s left out of your earbudsThis model, they no longer make itIn fact it was called backWeird chemicals somethingAnyway your friends were fast to replace themAt least who were microplastics to want to get inside themTheir lungs were all too sacredSo they sent the leftovers to the lonely townThe teenagers were all too happyThen they each died one by oneNatural causesWhy would you be so suspiciousO’ you’re so cynicalWhen it’s time everyone expires

Come on keep walkingYou have somewhere to beDon’t mind the coldBut do you have any change left for the last trainWill it be a one-way this timeThe point of no return?Don’t worry they’ll all say you were a nutcaseNo one will ask them the full storyThey’ll be too busy applauding each other for being nobodyIn resentment of the wannabe somebodies of our worldOh noOf course they’re not doing the job eitherWe’re all here to pretend play like the gardenerDid those grasses grow too fastWell we’d just cut them the other dayThese tiny problemsSee how they’re piling up day by day

But you’ve got to hold on dearie boyPerhaps there’s an uncle over there with a jobSomeone who’s likely sold their soulBut don’t worry a soul is never in the job description