Rough around the edges
Like a rhino on attack
The trees and sun look on
It is a machine for a heart
A deep river for a mind
Another day goes by
Just like the ocean breeze
To clear up that room of yours
Another day goes by
Just like this and that
Trying to find a smile
Inside a bucket of sand
Long drive at cold nights
Couldn't shake the mood
So I'll charge forward
As hard as possible
Tomorrow will open up
Like a butterfly when freed
To wonder the garden of today

Anger is blindness
Consuming true feeling
Disintegrating the atmosphere
Waking up isn't waking up
Sleeping isn't sleep
Everything goes down a hole
Nothing builds up, but sideways
Looking back at you
So you try to fight it
Injuring yourself, in warm blood
It is a high you can't escape
A wrath so great, so visceral
Anger is blindness
Anger is blindness, but
At times - truly necessary

Sometimes these things just work out
Issues with agenda's made by the universe
Like the swaying of the leaves on a tree
It is so natural, you gaze at it's beauty
Talk a walk down a busy street
Everything is so quiet in your eyes
Soft breeze hits your body as you continue
No clutter, no bother, nothing planned
Life has requested nothing
Life can take everything
It is the maestro, the captain
It can lend it's gifted hand
It will strike down at any given Sunday
We are but souls in a playground
It's always funny when we see more than this

The journey of thousands, and thousands
Of little steps begins with just one push
The push to take one step then another
After that it all gets goin' baby
It's the fire that hurts but makes us
The pain and the agony and the hate
Slamming your fist on the brick skyscraper
The obstacle will always seem to big
But the obstacle is just right there
You have your steps in a bag
It's your deal to use them
Dig a hole, grab a ladder, get movin'
The obstacle is here today, maybe tomorrow
But it's never forever, so never discard that
Your ideas are stronger than all of this

There is a piano player
Playing his piano inside
The walls of my mind today
Grey mornings, freeway rides
The coffee gets colder with soft lips
His music is swaying back and forth
Without rhythm, pace, or purpose
Just going along with the tide
Until the sun comes up
And he's in bed again
Far away on an island of fruit & wine

You can see it in the glimmer
Of a blinking eye lash
How deep does their vision go
How far have they have sunk
Have they killed before
Can they accept their deaths
Or have they died a few times already
Their backs, their touch, their senses
It is all a tell to a wicked story
To be willing to be uncomfortable
To accept truths much rather
Taken covered away from the crowds
As most let it happen, but not you
Is to find real truth within life
Expose it all, leave it on the table
And lay your raises down

We were supposed to be art
Art in the form of beings
To see, to touch, to evolve with
From the waters, to art
Electricity & salt fueling us
It is all falling, slipping
We are to enchant one another
To feed off the energy produced
By the touch of two eyes
Staring at the moon
Drinking the Spanish wine
The words we speak
The lust that drives us during ***
It is all to have been art
They shoot each other,
Some hate one another,
Others are blinded by themselves
Do not disappear, great art
We are here in the gardens
Inside the paintings
All around the city glowing together
The voice of art is real but fading
Some pretend, no substance
No passion, no sensitivity to the energy
But here it is, a truth to be told
We are to be art, daily
In our sleep to create
In our actions to be alive
And in our minds to explore all worlds