the son of heaven

some folk never know      well, you can’t say that of me     I knew exactly who I was     though others couldn’t see    just another working class chump     pretending to be free    so why should I play the fool    when I have things to say?      the cat has my tongue     and my flies are undone     maybe I’m better off this way      I’m uneasy with this silence      I prefer my electrical storms     I broke the root of my sorrow     with a well timed show of force     it amounts to sleight of hand       but I’m better for the change      since I placed the stars in orbit     and gave them all new names      the sun will rise and fall      to the rhythm of my heart     my love will be reflected     in a billion rays of light     now can you imagine that?     I’m so grateful to the spirit     for the fire that burns within    because I’m the son of heaven    delivered from human concerns     and absolved of worldly sin

thieves

the first theft was an apple       I hope it tasted sweet     that was a long time ago     now everyone’s a thief     I was glad to steal for you     and you were happy too     was that just a little extra gravy?     or something heavier still?    in hindsight was it wicked?     would you rather beg than steal?   is it a curse to have a conscience?     does your conscience bother you?    you reveal your state of mind  in everything you do     right and wrong     good and bad    the mirror in your heart    reflects the world you see    

a cat might have to steal     just to make ends meet      you’ve got to put food on the table     and that shit don’t come cheap     each of us is a fragment of an imperfect world     heaven and earth are ten thousand things    but we are thieves and nothing else    here is the fruit of knowledge    stolen from the vine     if you would perfect your being    you must master your desires    or learn to think like a thief     and steal everything you can 

the relations of production

the hand that gives     is the hand that takes     money is our god      make no mistake     they say money talks     and money makes sense    but the game is rigged at our expense     we’re taking names     and talking shit     laying blame     and sick of it     our parasitic system      has left us helpless and alone      but the rich will always prosper      their progress is well known      they tell me this is natural     the rich are rich      the poor are poor    it’s just the way it is      the dynamics of the system defy analysis    but our labour is the price     for the little we can save     we’ll labour for our living    we’ll labour to the grave      we’ll grease the wheels of industry      for our paltry weekly wage

    

let me be

 day breaks bleak and hard    my head is fit to burst     I hate waking up in the cells     I’m nobody’s hero now      I can’t account for myself      but I know that I’m still beautiful      in a ragamuffin way    I listen to my heart    I let it speak for me      there’s no mistake in nature     and there’s no mistaking me      I’ve broken many laws      in my efforts to break free     so lock me up again     throw away the key    break me on the wheel     or fuck off and let me be

fraternity

 after forty days and nights    I’ve come in from the wilderness      to make my bed where the wild things sleep   naked and alone    but I can bear the load    coz in my story I am free     but makes me so certain?    what does freedom mean to me?   well, I’m not free enough     and I’m not satisfied    where’s the peace of mind  I was guaranteed     when I cut the cords that bind?   I cultivated a little space    on the edge of society   coz I’ve lost faith in people    as they’ve lost track of me     I’m something of a misanthrope     it cannot be denied       it was learn to love my neighbour    or find a place to hide