In the empire of the free they don't sit you down to dinner
After speaking to the sky that damns you as a sinner
you are not asked to give your faith to war and corporate flood
or wave the flag of fabric weaved with fingers dipped in blood
In the empire of the soul, you’ve rearranged the mirrors
To reflect your inner light and burn away the horrors
That the world stacks up and deals to all unwitting players
Who circle round the village square to bet on dragon slayers
Sent out to battle once again with the enemy created
From rags and bones and madman’s dreams and dynasties related
By bloodlines green and handshakes gold and spinal fluid plunder
Through forest rain and oilfield pain and nations torn asunder
In the empire of the hardened heart where surgery is practised
but never shown on live TV for fear it would distract us
from propaganda perpetrated to fill heaven’s holy coffers
and bring us back at Christmas time with discount and special offers
In the empire of the modern world, the burning broken man
Sits alone and weeps into his bowl of Kahlil Gibran
And the tears they gather into empires green and almost overgrown
With Celestial Fish and plotters foul in their bed of salt water sown
And wash the cold genetic shores of tomorrow’s stunted children
With a watermark of emptiness that cannot yet be filled in
With new-age morals and old age woes and stories sent to scare us
With toys and games and lessons learned by lost and aimless parents
In the empire of the killer cats that coil in corners candid
To deliver you from all you earn and all the fish you’ve landed
On the decks of SS Psychosis while trawling for the future
You hang your head to stem the flow from cuts they cannot suture
In the empire of the mind there are no king and queen
And mothers don’t wait up to ask you where the hell you’ve been
you're free to roam beyond the edge of culture's pretty borders
to take a peek or dive right in to personality disorders…
…or so they say on ‘Mental Health Today’ to keep you on the narrow
and lead you back to plough the row you must yet learn to furrow
In the empire of the mind you are free to make your choices
To question everything you’re told by authoritative voices
After speaking to the sky that damns you as a sinner
you are not asked to give your faith to war and corporate flood
or wave the flag of fabric weaved with fingers dipped in blood
In the empire of the soul, you’ve rearranged the mirrors
To reflect your inner light and burn away the horrors
That the world stacks up and deals to all unwitting players
Who circle round the village square to bet on dragon slayers
Sent out to battle once again with the enemy created
From rags and bones and madman’s dreams and dynasties related
By bloodlines green and handshakes gold and spinal fluid plunder
Through forest rain and oilfield pain and nations torn asunder
In the empire of the hardened heart where surgery is practised
but never shown on live TV for fear it would distract us
from propaganda perpetrated to fill heaven’s holy coffers
and bring us back at Christmas time with discount and special offers
In the empire of the modern world, the burning broken man
Sits alone and weeps into his bowl of Kahlil Gibran
And the tears they gather into empires green and almost overgrown
With Celestial Fish and plotters foul in their bed of salt water sown
And wash the cold genetic shores of tomorrow’s stunted children
With a watermark of emptiness that cannot yet be filled in
With new-age morals and old age woes and stories sent to scare us
With toys and games and lessons learned by lost and aimless parents
In the empire of the killer cats that coil in corners candid
To deliver you from all you earn and all the fish you’ve landed
On the decks of SS Psychosis while trawling for the future
You hang your head to stem the flow from cuts they cannot suture
In the empire of the mind there are no king and queen
And mothers don’t wait up to ask you where the hell you’ve been
you're free to roam beyond the edge of culture's pretty borders
to take a peek or dive right in to personality disorders…
…or so they say on ‘Mental Health Today’ to keep you on the narrow
and lead you back to plough the row you must yet learn to furrow
In the empire of the mind you are free to make your choices
To question everything you’re told by authoritative voices
4 comments:
Who'd'a'thunk the empirical could wax so lyrical. Wonderful images and flow.
To think I stopped surfing porn just to read this eh!
lovly imagery as usual.
tut tut Simon, and you a man of the cloth...
oh pi, that was fabulous..totally enthralling and so very much the way it is...i luv it..
:)
k
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