[These were supposed to be the words for my concept album, ahem...so please keep in mind that this was supposed to -- and may still, one day! -- be put to music, so it makes a little more sense, as far as timing goes, while you’re reading it...]

~ The Maintenance of Living ~



~ Rise ’n Shine ~

Slumber, lumbering out of dreams, popping eyes,

sliding open, try to focus, rolling up towards the skies.

Slip of light, across the pain, just a thin stream

chasing the tail of a fading moonbeam.

Spreads across his face, slight lingering on lips,

then dances down his chest and through outstretched fingertips.

Yellow wash over all, grand entrance of the sun.

Feet on floor, he stands tall, a new day’s begun.



~ The Round Up ~

Sun swimming thick skies and sits high above clouds,

then turns back to face at the smiling crowds

of a world energized by the buzz of Today.

Who ever heard of no work and all play?

Well yes it’s a nice thought but things have to get done,

send off to work, a rain check on the fun.



Bopping and lolling, herd-like with the rest,

fragmented mind, clothes and hair’s in a mess.

On the door to his heart’s conscience, though, music knocks,

but in the downpour of industry it gets locked in a box.



There are deals to be made and good people to fuck.

Not the most honest work but a man needs his buck



~ The Farm ~

Fluttering, light stuttering, elastic plastic office blubbering,

Working-Man-White-Noise rains down from the ceiling.

Castdown eyes in the ’vator, coffee cup kick-start.

Seal the deal, how’s that feel? Well it tears him apart.



Crunch the numbers, book the flight, make the time.

You fucking weakling, is that a tear in your eye?

There’s no room for emotion in this cubicle farm.

Check your heart at the door or you’ll trip the alarm.



Another fee processed, this quarter’s losses,

don’t lose your focus and mind your bosses.

’My authority, son, is not up for debate.’

Keep your nose to the stone and don’t dare be late.



Fudge the numbers, losing sight, tracking time.

You fucking weakling, where’s your spine?

There’s no room for emotion in this cubicle farm.

Check your heart at the door or you’ll trip the alarm,

trip the alarm, escaping the farm, you’ll trip the alarm, heart’s put to the test, escaping the farm, herd-like with the rest, trip the alarm, escaping the farm, escaping the farm, how bad do you want it, heart’s put to the test, escaping the farm, herd-like with the rest, escaping the farm, escaping the farm...



~ Horizon ~

Horizon, what have you got for me?

Another sundown, but is there more to see?

Your smile lies as a line tightened flat,

but haha, I know better than that...



Rise in the east and set in the west,

of Cellestial Beings, I like you the best.

But if you rose in the west and set in the east,

I have to say I’d like you the least.



Time to unroll the nursing blanket night sky,

sparkling stars just a twink in your eye.

Grass beard sways under your warm breath

but excitement’s near and I cannot rest.



Rise in the east and lie in the west,

the heavy breathing heaves his chest.

But if you blow in west and set the east

he’d have to say he likes the tease.



~ In The Air / The Dream Sequence ~

Right now is perfect,

listening to songs and spread out in the sun.

Voices carrying on the breeze,

and occasionally catching in the trees

I want it to go on and on.



There it is! D’ya get it? That feel in the air?

Bodies buzzing or was it the wind in her hair?

At this time there is no wall,

though your grin trips on itself and cracks into a smile,

and ’Humpty Dumpty’, you’re thinking, all the while,

’never had such a splendid fall.’



There’s nothing to prove, and nothing to lose.

The time of your youth, when no one had couthe,

and energy to run.

Right now is perfect,

listening to songs and spread out in the sun.



~ Rude Awakening ~

Wake up!! You’re still here! What have you done?

You stripped this soul for your own shallow fun.

But it was consentual, she wanted it, too,

and a man’s gotta do who a man’s gotta do.



In the time of our youth, we all wanted to be grown

but now childhood’s simplicity aches your weary bones.



’I want to be good, want to be the bread winner

but I hate my job, does that make me a sinner?

I once had dreams, and aspirations!

But now I just hope to meet expectations.

I do what I can, to please The Man,

but that was never part of the original plan.

I want a life, wanna do it right,

but I want to exercise some pride.’



Wake up!! You’re still here! Now get off, be gone.

Don’t wait to be inspired by another one’s song.

You typical man, mastered by your urges,

and acquisitions, and stocks and mergers.

You’re better than this, so just follow your heart.

And know that all good things have a slow start.



I want to be good, want to be the bread winner

but I hate my job, does that make me a sinner?

I once had dreams and aspirations.

But now I just hope to meet expectations...



~ Good Night, Sweetheart ~

Hang your heavy coat of consciousness at the front door.

Heave a sigh, rest your eyes, you’ve made it through once more.

Another day done and what have you to prove

that this precious, now lost time, was put to good use?

A shot in the dark, a ball out of the park,

did you do anything to help carve out your mark?

A place in the world is what everyone needs

but it’s hard to be bothered when all you want is to sleep,

and the maintenance of living gets in your way,

tried and true, trip the alarm each day

you woke up in time

to be just behind.

But it’s hard to be bothered when all you want is to crash,

and the moonbeam illuminates all in its path,

casting the night blue over cool grass,

pulling closed eyelids, tucks in your brain.

Just because you’re human

doesn’t mean you’re humane.

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