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
Fifteen 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 vs. 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
Thirty 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-ninefold
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
Twenty-seven songs are yours
My blood my sweat my open doors
I've hurt reviled and reconciled
Five hundred 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?