Riding the Carousel

I wish I was a burdenless guy,
flying free like a bird in the sky.
Some tell me I'm absurd and I'm wise;
others have simply heard it's a lie.

Hidden in the shade of an alder grove,
shielded from the sun and missing the snow,
I wonder if there's a reason to go
or if I should sit back and let my roots grow.

I listen to the trees - within them is wisdom
or so said the wind between leaves when it kissed them.
It seems that the world passed by, and I missed it
trying to fight back against an old, broken system.

Each of my dreams is just a drop in the stream
flowing through a jungle of concrete, steel beams.
Who gives a damn what the world believes
when you're wandering lost, come apart at the seams?

I hear the soft call of nature once again,
caressing the breeze which carries her sweet scent.
Wrapped in her embrace, I could never pretend
that the world's a cruel place, wasted and spent.

The sound of silence tickles my skin,
even behind the stone streets, cars, and din.
I dance to the music of society's sin,
and I see the cogs turn, while it burns from within.

So until then, the carousel spins, and I laugh
as I watch Babylon write its own epitaph.
The structures collapse as I dance my own path,
the undoing of greed, guilt, and corporate wrath.

Never trapped in the grasp of Imperial lies,
I feel free as a fool, looking out with bright eyes.
The sages of ages past philosophized
That this whole playing field is indeed unified.

Quantum physics refined this gold mine of time,
space and matter aligned in the same rhythmic rhyme.
Waves and particles dart at the flip of a dime
and as mindful observers, this is all our design.