Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Up-tight, never ending, squeaking, little jean cutting mice in a maze
Watch them wait for the train we all know never came
I've had enough with the bright pink joint suckers who think the world ain't burning
Who watch with sparkling baby eyes while the brakes fall off in the morning
What happens when the stained fingered glass people meet an emotion?
Should we stand back while they tape their minds to fragments of isolation?
Perhaps the world is to great for such imaginary robots
And the controllers like the masses in assembled plastic thoughts
Maybe the ramblings of a far-gone mind wont move the wheels
But somebodys gotta scream when we roll off of the hill