Can’t even speak cos
I’ve been screaming.
Voice is gone, but I’ve
Never found meaning
In anything seen on an iPhone screen,
Covered with tears,
Cos it’s too demeaning.
Elucidation, wish I was dreaming.
Wanna-be psychics claiming fusion
With The Universe but can’t converse
With Major Tom or his lonely soul,
Life beyond Mars, or a black hole,
Sad confusion, but just a delusion that
They are a Spiritual Ground Control.
But can you hear them Major Tom?
Can you hear them Major Tom?
Victimised by being one’s own victim,
Daunted by theraputical dictum,
Peculiar how our mutual plight
Of the helpful things to do,
Became a competition and a wedge
Between me and they and you.
Everyone knows best,
No arguments allowed.
Just you and your ego
Because three’s a crowd.
No single pathway to the end,
I’m sure there’s quite a few,
But unless I’m just a moral clone,
Who cares what others do?
Everyone needs validation,
The fight for higher ground.
Common sense goes on vacation,
The world burns to the ground.
Genetically modified veganism.
Antivaxers and egotism.
Sadistic female circumcision.
Innocents are sent to prison.
So let’s sit and debate about
Who is most insulted, as
Those of us who dare protest
Will surely be assaulted.
So fuck all of this black and white,
And who is more correct than right.
The first thing they should teach in class
Is how to get your head out of your ass.