Make way for the positive day
In this commercial zone
We Buy Sell Trade
And fail to Stop
To hear the world in six songs
and its tsunami of human suffering
Because we are alone.
And you fool you
Believe in magic when
Here we believe in local
and worldwide delivery
of Freedom and Liberation
Watching blowing boxes
through windows while
we recycle used oil.
Street Spirit is not Dead
You say its hiding
behind multi-colored
tiny windows covered in
bars of iron sanity
and rationality
Obstructing the endless
pit of human jealousy and
sanctity and practicality.
The sun killed street spirit
Because every time it comes up
So do the absent brained
invalids of a society ruined
by lack of creativity and wonder
And now we make way for
Dinner dates with the government
And I might as well have died today
Because this is the height of freight
The rebels of today with nothing
to fight for.