Alive

An Old Man once asked me,
Will you play Satan, so that the children can be Angels?
Will you start faking so that the Angles will Tangle,
Innocent fates for sake of of a different kind of Tango,
One His Highness wouldn’t dare dangle,

For fear of the greedy sirs,
Their furs know exactly how to be stroked,
Would you dare Evoke the rune of the Wicked?
Dear son are you even listening?

But see, my soul, had long since been twisted,
The train of righteousness my soul had done missed it,
I never acted on mischief and I loved all of my sisters,
But with eyes wide shut I understood the mystics,

That knew Man was egregious,
I understood the Seavers, Duponts, and Cleavers,
Rockerfellers the kinda fellas that might’ve raped the beavers,
I was more than willing to undermine the Cheaters,

Because thieves they have no honor,
And I put that on my momma,
That when I count these commas,
It’ll be beside the recounting of Dharma,

My karma has no compass,
The Universe it just don’t run shit,
It it did we’d still have nuns, shit,
If it did we’d still have fun, bitch,

Here I go, gunning for gold,
Wondering why I had to be so old,
But inside my spirit scolds,
And reminds me of the cold,

My young years I was forged a savage,
A young with a habit,
Of taking when I had to have it,
I had always been this rabid,

So, no, I won’t become Satan,
I’ve been Him, we aren’t forsaken,
We’re just taken for a ride,
A war of games and pride.

So, while I hear your position,
The point you seem to be still here missing,
Is that if there’a no pot for pissing,
Then young men gets to getting

And taking and forsaking the lesson of our youths making,
Because we know what happens when there’s nothing else.