Taken for a Ride

Marvin walked into a helpless land and wondered lightly

"Am I happy?"

"Is this happy?"

Following the footsteps left by man

He stepped to reprimand the mystic

So sadistic

Better half a century passed on later

Thought I'd be the next curator of this story

15 months not faltered once

Victorian dunce turned pico-luminary

This is scary

Listening to painted whispers

Pastel wailings, matte disquiet

Next the stranded cynic sits and toils

His fits and foils written slowly

Nothing's holy

Emotion versus cognition

Trial the pathos logos fission

This explosion of devotion

Lonely sulking halves that wanted

Just a taste of closure to implore them

To start living

30 hours each with minimal outreach

Not for sale, for fun

It's free, friend

Come to the deep end

Gazing on the abscessed silence

Woeful strokes of chordal whims

One solitary smile to go that extra mile

To make me feel today

To make it go away

The chemistry is gone

Taken for a ride

Far away from you

No longer left inside

♪

Actor with his trident crown and blindfold

Smiled and counted three by nine-fold

Is it over?

Or is he just a cycle now interned?

A bridled foreword

The beginning of an era

Study write practice record

Program mix master film and edit

Then publish to the ether

Rinse repeat sir

When questioned, simply smile and wave

Look on your pile and say

Well, I'm no lightweight

Jesus Christ mate

Listening in tandem

To a sorrow of forgotten hills

One solitary smile to goad these woes and wiles

To help me see the day

I'll happily throw away

This chemistry of old

These beakers and vials

Far away from through

I'll come back in a while

One secondary smile to go that extra mile

To make me feel today

To make it go away

The chemistry is gone, taken for a ride

Far away from you

No longer left inside

♪

There are no secrets anymore

I've laid them all out on the floor

(They're all for you)

You want something?

You know more about me than my family

All these sick unsightly maladies

Staving off the due insanity

Haptic feedback half-baked blasphemies

27 songs are yours

My blood, my sweat, my open doors

I've hurt reviled and reconciled

500 fucking hours and I'm finally getting bored

This story isn't over

I'm not sure that it's begun

But I'd just like to spend some more time

Enjoying being one

My quill is dry, my flat-line nigh

My tears arranged and poured

And yet still you want for more?

I think it's better when you don't plan things

Because you get too disappointed in things

But, I, this wasn't planned, it just grew

Started one little machine, then two, and five, and six

Only thing I'd probably do is like to have a bigger place

To display more things that I get rid of 'em

But on the other hand, big is not better, it's, better is what's better

I think, I like that quote "Better is better"