i’d like to be a clear soul arriving at nirvana
immune to a million forms of outmoded dogma
or maybe it would end like an icelandic saga
i could die in battle and transcend to valhalla
in the real world i don’t go anywhere special
i drive to my workplace enveloped in metal
when it’s all said and done i return to my dwelling
the events of my workday are seldom worth telling
sometimes i get this outlandish sensation
when i’m drunk at a nightclub with no reservations
that i could turn into vapor and ascend to the rafters
and live in the colored mists, forever and ever
when i fall in love it’s a typical disaster,
a cocktail of feelings and i’m easily plastered
the woman involved gets panicked and smothered
and i become even sadder when i no longer have her
but as soon as we locked eyes the saddening ended,
the stillbirths upon which my sickness depended
could finally sleep the way nature intended
and give me a taste of this natural rapture
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