Playing God with a Goldfish

a man was buried once. vines took over his veins. his bones. & An art project that involved cutting a goldfish from a rope and killing him.

Playing God with a Goldfish

We never sleep here, 

not in our bodies, not in our beds, 

our minds wide awake in the depth of our heads. 

For better, for worse, or for best at the time, 

we chase the tequila, bitter salt, bite a lime. 

Follow our trails down the roads of the hopeless, 

we ran down them winding, twirling bodies psychotic. 

Little Red and her basket, full of good tidings raving, 

we never thought we'd be the people worth saving. 

But look where we got to, to pedestal pride, 

to humbling, fumbling, gospels inside. 

 And the world's looking over, to tap on our shoulder,

“These were the kids, while we cried getting older”,

And never the same will we pass through the years, 

while we dream, wide awake, of our wildest fears. 

Dancing and prancing and lost in the clocks, 

melted over our hands clicking codes into locks. 

We're drowning in oxygen straight to heart's vein, 

causing thought of insanity pulsing through brain. 

We're the man in the tree only still with our lives, 

and the roots are just taking but only with knives. 

It's taking, it's taking, it's taking, it's taking.

We promise it's good that our bodies are shaking. 

Depravation and illness, it's only okay, 

We're giving our lives to the good of the day. .

It's bullshit, pollution, our minds are too good

to keep doing the s**t that they tell us we should. 

F**k it all up, put the noose on the tree, 

I'm tired of doing all that they want to see.

The world's just a stage but we're not the director, 

It's funny how little rights belong to the actor. 

They grab you, the puppet, bend your body to wish, 

They're all f*****g playing god with a goldfish.