women are from venus and men from mars
and i thought women only come from bars
without the moon we get no light from stars
****** tonk ba donka donk rear ending cars

if it weren't for love we wouldn't need hate
without relativity, we can still relate
without time, we wouldn't wait
without fire we'd have no fate

without google, we would live no lies
without google we would have no eyes
without death, no one dies
without agreeing, there's no compromise

with our friends we hate on other friends
with no means there would be no ends
without pain, the heart never mends
with no mind, no one comprehends

He cannot hear
I just now realized
He's deaf to it, it's all disguised
Everything, all of it, is crystal unclear
What's up is down and what's far is near

The radio boils
The microwave sings
The telephone listens, while his ear rings
But he hasn't noticed, his ignorance is loyal
To his strange world of backwards turmoil

His eyes tear up
At the toasters dull ding
Oblivious though, to orchestral strings
Crescendoing, divinus, in joyous buildup
An Ode only heard as a course hiccup

Puts books to his ear
But hears no voice
Thumbs through jibberish, but his hands hold Joyce
The steak tastes like spam and the wine of beer
He's deaf to it, all of it, everything I fear

He runs in squares
And lounges in circles
Tears down hopes, and builds up hurdles
Will flail in shallow water and fall up stairs
Then write love letters to hate-affairs

Has two left feet
And no right moves
His rhythm and soul have lost their groove
It's tragic, greek, a heart that offbeat
Might mistake victory and chance for fate and defeat.

He's wrong. What's more?
He's oxymoronic
His light-hearted prose are mostly sardonic
Wouldn't know an apple from an adonic core
Or discordant beats from euphonic score.

He's deaf to it,
Yes ears and all.
Despite what words I might here scrawl.
It will never get through to that dumb misfit
He's deaf and blind and full of ****.

He cannot hear
I just now realized
He's deaf to it, it's all disguised
Everything, all of it, is crystal unclear
What's up is down and what's far is near

The radio boils
The microwave sings
The telephone listens, while his ear rings
But he hasn't noticed, his ignorance is loyal
To his strange world of backwards turmoil

His eyes tear up
At the toasters dull ding
Oblivious though, to orchestral strings
Crescendoing, divinus, in joyous buildup
An ode only heard as a course hiccup

Puts books to his ear
But hears no voice
Thumbs through jibberish, but his hands hold Joyce
The steak tastes like spam and the wine of beer
He's deaf to it, all of it, everything I fear

He runs in circles
And sits in squares
Drowns in shallow waters and falls upstairs
Nothings left of romance when passion dulls
But crippled hopes and shattered hulls

He cannot hear
He just now realized
He's deaf to it, it's all disguised
Everything, all of it, is crystal clear
What's up is down and what's far is near

Look nowhere but within, for your spiritual highs, forgiveness and sin.
The saddest truth there is, your a commodity.
You're a consumer to the holy man who put a price on his wisdom.
And the teachings of the earth are so lost
That we pay for courses in the innate.
To know what we thought we never needed. And become who we thought we'd never be.
Isn't that ironic?
We're lost.
This human being.

I met a man walking backwards,
head to toe in high viz.
He was happy to ask for directions
and overtook the crowd with ease.

I met a man walking backwards,
telling me what was to come.
'Keep both eyes on the past,' he said,
'for the future is just re-runs.'