The choices that we make
Are like every chance that we take...
There once was a man
who had a dream...
Take her by the hand
Though she won't stay long...
Have you hugged your kids today
they might need a simple hand...
The hand that writes these words
is not one to be compared...
Painted pictures,
glittered gowns...
A mucky, fetid tidal smell
No one speaks there, only yells...
Media markets death tolls
Thinking just of ratings...
Fill our bodies with lies
Until we believe you...
Stuck in a crowd
with nothing to say...
When the cayote-dog
sings out his midnight song...
If one man runs
Another follows...