posted on Aug, 27 2009 @ 11:50 AM
Shut your mouth. How could you say that things will end for ME?
I’m far too great; my life’s been good, what makes you think YOU see?
A number on a chart, or graph, or chips put in my blood,
What makes you think you sense the pain or smell impending flood?
Wouldn’t that be great if you, the smartest of the pack,
Could tell us all with certainty when ‘HE’ is coming back.
But much like us, you’re just a man, not gifted or prophetic,
Your cries and lies of future thoughts have grown now quite pathetic.
Incessantly you ring your bell and hold your signs of dread
The end is near, or nigh, or soon, tomorrow we’ll be dead!
It’s really gotten kind of tired, your preaching quite abrasive.
It grates on my remaining nerve, the logic too evasive.
Around and through the loops we go, with one day ‘soon’ demise,
One man’s science fiction is often times another’s lies.
If you’re so gifted, I’m confused, what you’re still doing here.
Is there some sort of pleasure felt from other people’s fear?
For me, so selfish, there’s no doubt what I would do with knowing
The gold, the drinks, the food, the fun, it all now would be flowing
Perhaps you’re not the same as me, your motives far more pure
But this constant crap, self-righteousness, is too great to endure.
Beard, intoxication, smelly, unkempt in your ways
Stumbling through polluted streets, your eyes a constant glaze.
Temptation’s great to aid your quest, to let you join you master,
Shut up about the quakes and waves, extinction grade disaster.
You know as much as we do now, a baby with a toaster
Your hands held up, pretend excitement, riding on a coaster.
It will not stop, for you or us, despite our frightened yell
Perhaps you’ll dine tonight with God, or maybe burn in Hell.
You see, you’re not the one to say, what happens when it’s spent
Where your idea of good or bad, your fellows should be sent
It’s not your fault; you read a book and took it your own way
So take another holy swig, you made it through today.
You might just wake tomorrow and could have a clearer head
Or be so hungry tired, alone, the walking, angry dead.
You turned away so long ago, from friends and life and love
You traded feeling in this world for a promised life above.
So grasp at straws and make some noise if it calms your weary nerves
The fire will cleanse the world of drunks and thieves and crooks and pervs.
Or take a bath and get a job and shave your freakin face
Jump down off your cloud sometime and join the human race.