Sunday, March 9, 2008

rubber shoes

Rubber shoes
You got the blues
Running around all day

The friction torn
between sloth and scorn
You can judge your smile away

And movin’ still
Is one cheap thrill
To justify your direction

If the details escape
In a blur, in a haze
No one will question your intention

When your eyes, they burn
From the sand and dirt
And your head calls to God
For election

Just remember you're doomed
As the one you behooved
To move and escape
Their reflection