I hate the man who appreciates the hatred
Can’t stand the one who tolerates them all
Least of all can I abide the ones
who set them up just to watch them fall
I love the woman who deals with my anger
I envy those she talks to in the hall
I ponder on those who think they own her
wonder why they bother at all
I oppose all who think they can plunder
control freaks who think they own it all
I’ll fight them till I’m six feet under
I’ll stand up until they force my fall
The seasons’ cycle is never-ending
She dances at our annual ball
She’s naked inside the meandering river
she’s seen a lot but she hasn’t seen it all
Her Jesus accepts things as they are
That doesn’t mean she never feels appalled
at the world’s complex web of lies
and the prisons of cubicle stalls
The world tends toward the complex
but if I had a crystal ball
I’d hide it away where it can’t be found
I’d surrender my illusions of control
I’d dispossess anything that you can name
and I’d skip randomly through my patrol