I think I’ve watched my life on a 40" plasma screen
Flash in front of me in neon scenes
I’ve watched in perfect fantasy, what has and will
Come to pass...as I stare into a vacant glass
Amazing the minds that created the marketing
of our journey
It's like watching a comic tragedy...never
It leads...if I stall or find an open space to breathe
pressing my nose on the window of who
I’m supposed to be
I’m not quite sure I exist
Could I be a figment of a brilliant imagination?
I create my own clone to make sure I don’t miss
Fixed on the station to stand up or fail
Perhaps I’m just watching the soul of an entire nation
Puff away while waiting for ratings...
I’m amazed at how we suck up to greed
Lasik surgury is given away in gift bags
In the land of the rich and blameless
Where the powers that be allowed them to feed us
Chunks of vision, music, chaos, and greed
Then stand back to watch how I act when slapped
In the face of fantasy, created from televised reality...
I keep my eyes open...I listen to whispered slips Of conversations
Heard only in my mind, only babbled
At sleepless nighttime
Conversations spoken from virtual stranger
I no longer need to find
I step back and shake my in head wonder
Never knowing why they’re there or what they’re saying
Is it an alien form of praying?
Am I in need of comfort or artistically impaired?
That all genius is a form of madness
is a comfort to my habit
Of watching life acted out in front of me
On a 40" plasma screen