ranting

broke broke broke be my motto

to echo through the eternity of bill collectors and high gas prices

god hath not forsaken me but certainly he doth torture me

in an attempt to satiate his quest for control

by taking away that which your comfortable with to show you the world as it is

a land of battle where both sinner and saint battle, not against each-other but beside each-other for we are all brothers

some simply fall quicker than others

so as i lay awake

this case of insomnia i lie in wake of

i wonder, if money is transitory, why bother

if matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration why not simply create

create a new eden, an eden to squelch out the friends in digital ages, the soda pops, the endless buildings

tear it all down

there needs to be enough eden to go around

but alas thats not where our souls are bound

so shoulder to Hitler and Gandhi and push back the tide if only to keep us for a moment longer in this concrete desert