Devourer
Your heart is a devourer
yet you feed it nothing but crap
that is if you feed it at all

Then you wonder – then you are stupefied
When it doesn’t grow and bloom

You blame others
You blame yourself
You are stuck
Some stillborn passion
and dream of life.

I have some advice for you
If I may be so bold…

This is all complete Bullshit
This is all a clever lie.

There is no devourer.
There is no heart.

Listen to a child singing
And maybe you will begin to glimpse the truth
The song existed before the child and the song will go on singing
long after the child is gone.

Who is singing?
What is this song?

Are you to bored and cynical to even entertain such ideas?
Are you to afraid to be the awkward fool you already are

Devourer
Your heart is a devourer
Yet you feed it nothing but crap
If you feed it at all

Then you wonder – then you are stupefied
When it doesn’t grow and bloom

This paradox, which doesn’t even exist
is the paradox that the mainspring of all humanity
is wound on.
It will run eternal
as it is self winding

Could I whisper some advice
As I slide off your pants?

Love this Parrot Ox
Love its vibrant colors and squawking
Love its stumbling bull in the china shop grace

Love and accept it
Because it doesn’t go away
Its clang blashing will perhaps sooner or later
Give way to a deeper simpler reality
Once ya stop struggling and thrashin about so.

Once you set out a dish of water
And comb the burrs outta its mane

Devourer
Your heart is the devourer
Yet you feed it nothing but crap
If you feed it at all

Then you wonder – then you are stupefied
When it doesn’t grow and bloom

Don’t worry my friend
God hisself couldn’t be so stupid
As to place such obvious blame
Even if it were true

Its too easy
To easy to be any real FUN

Consciousness looks at Consciousness
And thinks
Consciousness better shape up
Or I won’t buy it a
10 speed, 325 watt, artisan stand mixer, with tilt-back head.

Consciousness is funny like that
I’d laugh
but Consciousness still owes me 50 dollars
And I want it to know that I am very serious
Even with gods thumb up my ass
I too have a part to play

Its toy pistols at dawn
For me and consciousness
Though neither of us shall be mortally wounded
I hear there will be plenty of blood and screamin’

Devourer
Your heart is a devourer
Yet you feed it nothing but crap
If you feed it at all

Then you wonder – then you are stupefied
When it doesn’t grow and bloom

Another fine mess
Consciousness has gotten us into