Gnowhere To Go
Know Thing
I do not think I Know the thing I know
While pointing at the urine in the snow
The snow it melts and with it comes the spring.
It's birth and death that's closer to the thing.
It's closer yet it's closer now to what?
That sinking feeling nested in my gut?
That wonder that I felt when I was three?
The secrets that the masters scream at me?
Hallucinate with books and arguments
Our hearts so twisted up we’ve lost all sense
But wind still blows the trees and birds still sing
It's myth and dream that's closer to the thing
It might turn out that all the time I’ve spent
In slavery to god and government
Was merely pointing to the yellow snow
(My spirit trapped inside may cease to grow)
But birth and death are turning in the dark
And dream and myth they call upon the spark
The leaf is plucked from branch by angry wind
(It might turn out the demons are your friend!)