Testing

I know that it is weird,
But what's a man to do?
When you have a life to live there are some things,
That are compulsory for you,

Especially when it comes to where,
You ultimately get your money,
Because it's the only true gauge in the world,
Of how much you are free.

And besides, what else do you have to do?
You may as well learn as much as you can,
About life by doing what does not come naturally,
So you can look at yourself as a different man.

And it's alright,
You'll always be able to find yourself back,
To the person that you truly are,
If you really want to do that.

Enumerate

The man who lives with no one,
And wants no one visiting,
Has thrown any proof that he actually exists,
At the people sent for the counting,

And they trudge along, 'cause their duty,
Is only to those who really care,
Though given what people usually go through,
It's no surprise they want nobody there,

And so the truth is only as good as the people,
Both who search for it, and those meant to provide,
The basis for all of the calculations,
But we already know the facts have been denied.

And it's alright,
Life will keep on going as per usual,
And we'll live as if some people don't exist,
Which frankly is a great coping tool.

The Right Life

There's no use in trying,
To be what you're not.
You may as well try to change your world,
As stop the sun from being hot.

The trick is understanding who you are,
And then what that makes the things around you,
Then navigating the world knowledgably,
And finally finding yourself someplace new,

Someplace you had a sense of but didn't quite get,
The route to take to get there,
But once reality aligned with your thoughts,
The world's secrets were finally laid bare.

And it's alright,
If you can't quite get to that spot,
It's enough to know that it exists,
To understand that the right life can't be bought.

Full Circle

You never know what decisions,
Will open up new worlds,
But you can know that you did all you could,
To bring things back full circle,

And by that I mean being open,
With the openings that you allow,
And grinding fear with the boot of abandon,
Into stagnation's lonely ground,

And then forgetting all about it until,
The day comes when you come upon,
An adolescent in the realm of creations,
That was one of your new worlds' orphans.

Then it's alright,
To kneel down and praise the sky,
'Cause no matter what it is you find up there,
That magic happens you can't possibly deny.

Never Give Up

Oh no, that is the end of everything,
No more is left to create.
If you take the sum of all that's been said,
All that can affect the content is the date.

And nothing has changed anything up to this point,
So the energy that would need to be used,
To translate the message for a new generation,
Might be better spent drinking booze.

And all the effort trying to make things better,
Haven't we learned anything, yet?
The work one's willing to put in to gain power's,
Much less than what's needed once you decide to react.

So, it's alright,
If you want to really work on,
Getting yourself what you want,
As long as it isn't freedom.

Time Past

Every moment that passes,
Is not a moment lost,
But one that only has existence with,
Its pass.

I've thought of many moments,
I'd never want back,
Not because they'd be painful,
But because they've led me to this tack.

That is the key to getting,
All you want in the end,
The ability to let go of those moments,
That were so momentous.

And it's alright,
To live in moments in the past,
If you don't mind finding yourself,
In rags once the rest have passed.

Gangs

I had to stand up,
Amidst children in their teens,
Who surely couldn't have a strong identity,
But who create strength from being seen,

In great groups and in being boisterous.
Everyone would say that it is all a facade,
And that if you pushed at it just a little bit,
It would fall down like a house of cards.

But like standing on a sturdy bridge that's suspended,
High above a pit of deadly sharks,
Even with all the confidence in the world,
Reality gives no guarantee that things might not fall apart.

But it was alright,
What you'd expect happened anyway,
And the facade turned out to hide insecurity.
But, of course, that's just the outcome from that one day.

The Radius of Circles

Let's see if I can remember,
The significance of the radius of circles,
I know that unless I want to be insulted,
I should not rhyme it with world.

Let's think about this logically, though,
If anything can be considered a centre,
Then, different things will fall on its circumfrence,
From very close to very outer.

And each of those things could be a centre itself,
So that the former centres all fall on the circumfrence,
And what do all of these things all share together?
Why, their radii of course, my friends!

So, I guess it's alright,
Try thinking of the space between you and,
Everything else as a radius,
And you're connected to everything in the end.

The World's Saviour

There are a lot of people,
Riding that fine line,
Whether of poverty or sanity,
Capitalism likes it just fine,

Because that's exactly how it likes to ride,
No surety that the next moment won't bring,
Complete disaster, that's why people hate it,
But can't help counting on it emancipating.

That's why the world's mostly filled with disaster,
Because money's constantly promising to be,
Through the mouths of politicians and some idea of 'good',
The one to come and make everyone free.

So, it's alright,
If you want to try to live outside of the thought,
That money will fix all of your problems,
Because, if you ask money, it will not.

Be That Way

What can I really tell you,
That you don't know already?
You reap what you sow, so try planting some seeds,
Of openness and comradery.

I've seen it happen again and again,
In my very short life.
Much like a plant trying to grow in unfertile land,
Deceit and selfishness are as soft as a knife,

Trying to reach a heart, well here's some news,
The heart must be reached with tenderness and truth,
And what you create's what the world returns,
Because that is how the world works.

And it's alright,
However you want to be,
And however you want to shape your own world,
Is completely fine with me.

Freedom of Expression

The more things that you do,
The more the world does them with you,
And the less you worry about how thin you're getting,
Rewards will start coming, too,

But, of course, if you don't want to jinx it,
Just silently do your thing and forget about,
Your ultimate goals because they don't exist,
Until their attainment is in no doubt,

And don't share your ideas with anybody,
You don't want them to have life until you give them birth,
Because, I'm sure, you have the most fertile land,
In which to maximize on its potential birth.

It's alright, it's alright,
I was getting a little sarcastic.
Just remember that life was meant to explore,
And sharing ideas just creates more of it.

Work

What more is necessary,
For human satisfaction,
Than to be provided with all you need,
With total freedom for relaxation?

I suppose there are those who need to do something,
But is that nature or nurture?
We've been trained so much to work for a buck,
And to think not of the now, but of the future.

Though, if that's right, then there's no such thing as instinct,
And so some things must be naturally innate,
And I'm inclined to think that people are born to feel they must work,
And Capitalism simply makes money the bait.

But then it's alright,
For some people to do nothing at all,
And for them to enjoy it, so then what does nature tell us?
It tells us nothing. Besides, my brain tells me work's critical.

Carry Forward

Is it enough,
For things to just work out right,
Or do the unresolved issues still exist,
Hidden deep away from the light?

And do they slowly eat away at something?
I'm not going to say what,
One can do to try to resolve them at all,
Because there's not a lot,

Of benefit compared to what one must put in,
Unless there truly is life after death,
And what we do in this one is a carry forward.
Then I'd take back everything I just said.

Oh, it's alright,
Don't let it get you down,
I'm sure the things in your heart are pure,
And that your issues aren't a great amount.

Distance

There is a fine line,
Between coping and despair,
And once it's crossed it's hard to help,
Inject reason into the affair.

But what's that called when you're inconsolable,
Kind of like when a kid throws a tantrum?
I don't know, but I'm sure it's unavoidable,
And it surely negates all chance at conversation.

Because, why discuss when not doing so means,
You have the freedom to act as you want,
Regardless of the attempts of other people to make,
Your situation more pleasant?

But it's alright,
It's actually easier on others.
It gives them one less thing to worry about in their world,
While you flail about in yours.

Clout

There's nothing much that hits me,
That demands my attention,
So much that my heart's aching to talk about it.
Is that a sign of disconnection?

There's a lot happening that I know about,
And even more that I don't,
Close to home and around the world.
Things I would not condone,

But have little power to stop because,
Well, because I don't have the power,
And by that I mean I don't have the money,
Because there are not enough hours,

To be alright,
Getting the money before giving the help,
But that's the route you have to take in this world,
If you want to have any clout.

Instinct

Can one exist without instinct?
I don't really think so.
One would be frozen in inaction,
Because one would never know,

Anything, because to learn,
A certain leap of faith is required,
And where one leaps is determined by instinct.
That's why faith never produces liars.

So what is the grounding of this inner knoweldge,
Without which nothing would get done?
And why do things only really turn out badly,
When one defies it in the name of reason?

Because instinct's alright,
It's really the only thing that one has,
And if you defy it, you're truly alone.
There's only so long that reason can last.

Unfounded Fears

Why don't people listen,
When I speak most seriously?
Is it that the sense that I am making,
Is only seen by me?

It's in those moments when I most want to be heard,
That it seems I'm always left with silence,
Of those who'd rather not embarrass me or them,
By commenting on my most impassioned rants.

I guess this means I'm finding the wrong things,
Important for discussion.
It's probably a good thing for my quality of life,
That my greatest concerns are not worth question.

And I guess it's alright,
If my greatest fears come true,
It only means that all identity will be lost,
And humankind will be left without a clue.

While There's Time

The time you have doesn't matter,
What you have to do's outside of it,
If you truly want to accomplish what,
Life allows for a human wit.

And that is the ability to remain,
Inside yourself while stepping out,
Of the situation you find yourself in.
Maybe it's not valuable, but it's cool, no doubt.

And so much's been written about it, what's the purpose?
Well, I think that's the very point.
Each generation speaks a different language,
and we don't want to forget its import.

And it's alright,
I have to go now,
There are just too many lives to live,
And this one's just not that important.

Entertainment

Some realities are fake,
And by reality, I mean event,
And by event I mean the illusion of entertainment,
And the mentality of a contingent.

Look in their individual minds and you will see,
Opinions as varied as love and abhor,
Though outwardly the group seems to be having fun,
I don't think I can say anymore.

Of course, it's all untrue, fun is fun,
And if you're having fun, then fun's what you look like,
Please disregard any intimation of doubt,
When you are riding away on your bike.

And it's alright,
Don't think anything about it,
Sometimes things seem one way when it's really another,
And I can tell you the fun was legit.

I Am Canadian

This is the real problem,
If you want to call it that,
With making it in Canada,
Other than the fact,

That no one in it really wants to see,
Anyone else succeed,
As well as the cost of travelling,
To meet your audience from sea to sea,

It's that no one seems to really agree,
On a national identity,
And because of a shameful past and the wish not to acknowledge who lives here today,
A false face is embraced of polite civility.

But I'm here to say it's alright,
What we need to be is ourselves,
And embrace the idea that others can be,
A true representation of themselves.

Dedication

Do you have to be fulltime,
To dedicate yourself to something?
I guess that's really the question here,
Before actually choosing,

What it is we're really talking about,
Maybe society has naturally come up,
With the right amount of time for dedication,
Forty-hours in Canada and thirty in Europe.

So here's to hoping that your job and vocation,
Happen to be the same thing,
Because I'm told you can't do your love on the side,
Or you're not doing enough dedicating.

Hey, but it's alright,
Don't let that get you down,
Just quit your job and be an artist fulltime.
A dream not searched for is a dream never found.

Class

I understand there must be a gap,
Between people of different classes.
How else can acts of discrimination occur,
If the few do not rule the masses?

And what will motivate people otherwise,
Than the possibility of attaining wealth?
Not that the rich are ergo lazy,
They just want to attain something else,

Which, I guess, begs the questions,
"Why have rich and poor at all?"
Maybe without classes we wouldn't know how to treat each other,
And life would be one-dimensional.

No, it'd be alright,
It takes all kinds to make every class,
And there's no harm in allowing everyone to live,
A life free from needing to toil or fast.

Politics

I'm not one for politics,
It confuses me,
Like when one person can be chosen to represent,
Five thousand communities,

Or when a government lasts only four years,
As if that is really enough time,
To undo what the past government did,
And implement things to be undone by the next in line.

And I know it's not all that simple,
Which is my very point,
Especially, when most governments are nothing like that.
Many are not elected, or simply appoint.

Oh, it's alright,
I really couldn't say much on the topic.
Most have neither the knowledge nor the time,
To truly understand how their country's leaders are picked.

Baby

If you were that small,
And you knew all that you know now,
And could control your body like an adult,
Would you cause any less of a row?

Do whatever you want, and it's not your fault,
I know some people live that way anyhow,
And sometimes they are so damn good-looking,
They get away with it until home come the cows.

And mabye the fact that some people can't stop,
Pooing their pants when they get old,
Makes the baby a symbol of a whole lifespan,
Possessing a very young soul.

And it's alright,
If you have your hands full,.
Life can get that way sometimes.
And if it doesn't, there's a hole to be filled.

Apples

The benefits for one person,
Often sit badly in the belly of he,
Who, for no reason, was just born out of time,
And whose body was not made for such eating.

So he stays away from it in the right form,
For causing him the most discomfort,
While everywhere he sees its injestion,
With the abandon of a wreckless sort.

So let the sunset fill your eyes with red,
Just as the freedoms of others do,
And when the darkness falls and you're still alive,
Think of the poisons that aren't streaming through you.

And it's alright,
If it means prosperity for all else,
That's karma, and you may have some coming,
For the benefit of yourself.

Two Worlds

You can live two lives,
Because the one you think is it,
If you really look you will find,
Has never quite alit,

Upon that reality you think is realer,
Than what's going on in your head.
This is not new news, though if you really think about it,
You've been restricting the lives you could've led.

I'm not talking schizoing or hallucinating,
You probably do those just in the one you're in,
I'm talking doing those things and much more,
In what you usually call imagination.

So go ahead, it's alright,
Create another world for yourself,
And do all those things you would never dream of,
In the one on which you've staked everything else.

Relief

From deep within its bowels,
Out comes the final intent,
Of the being who wanted to express,
His final comment.

And even these feces are not pure enough,
To be clear to all those who see it,
Creating abhorance and sometimes fascination.
You must just drop it after it's created.

Nothing truly pure is ever the same thing,
To any two people.
It's its honesty that unites everyone,
And sheds light on their own creations fecal.

So, it's alright,
Let it all pour out,
Once you've injested the right combination of,
The life that you should never deny yourself.

I Don't Want to Know

There is no real reason,
To dwell on the real reason,
For the ultimate reason,
For the existence of each person,

Because it just is, and knowing will not change that,
And, besides, knowing is not possible,
Because that would entail knowing the past, present and future,
And who is such an imbecile,

To be so absolutely open,
That anything that happened,
Would be of no surprise whatsoever?
Because that would be his ultimate end.

Though it would be alright,
Just living until you died,
Not worrying about consequences at all,
Because all time and space would be unified.

Circles

Let's look at this honestly,
Not to alienate the world,
And not to beat a dead horse, I wouldn't do that,
But where are all the circles?

The circles that dumbfound,
And the circles that do without aim,
The groups that inspire those not in a circle,
To join in the game?

Is there one voice that can lift everyone up,
And make them abandon Capatalism's gain,
On the human spirit and make people realise,
There's more to life than what your told to say?

And it's alright,
Something's got to break.
The human spirit wasn't made for all this spiritlessness,
And something is bound to break.