If the clouds move away will you still smoke?
If you get paid every week will you still worry?
If the roads are all unpaved will you still drive?
If you have everything you need, will you still buy more?
Will you continue to speak when you’re done saying what you’re saying?
Will you continue to eat when you’re full up?
What would you say, son, if the work was all done?
Who would you run to, who would you run with, who would you run from?
What would you say, son, if the work was all done?
Who would you run to, who would you run with, who would you run from?
What would you say, son?
As the universe grows, our relative knowledge slows down,
our perceptions fade, weaker than the eyes that tell us to change our ways -
no! I will not go! -
It’s safer sitting on this shrinking pile of golden change, golden change.
forty-two hour night days, hour night-days go by, grey and white, the sky gives rain and shadows,
and years grow deeper and taller than all of my best friends, and I and them
and we are older than each other, we are divided and conquered,
we are older than each other, we are divided and conquered.
I went down to Nora’s house, high on caffeine, cigarettes and beer and we’d drank too much.
I went down to Nora’s house, high on caffeine, cigarettes and beer and we’d drank too much.
What would you say?