#7 – Tanqueray and Sprite

With the weight of the world below us
Are we all losing our grip?
On stalks of tall green grass
Spinning in circles, dancing for no one in particular
or for everyone
Bending at the knees, hoping our lips don’t freeze
Never mind a spill
Upon our face and neck and chest
And in the eyes of those watching too closely
No one wants to leave
and why should they?
The weight of the world slowly becoming fuzzy
With talk of taxes and true freedom
Can’t we just forget our petty concerns
We want to live the high life
To drinking it in and stay the night
Justifiable, we work only 10 from here
We don’t want to leave
and why should we?
Hanging from the grass with one arm griping at needles
We can’t hold on to both desire and reality
What is this crutch letting us go and holding us back from true community?
I can feel so comfortable and the next second so disjunct
Marked by a separation like a fault line
I want to get out
Let’s go

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