FINAL EXAM

FINAL EXAM
4/88

I can see it out there as the sun begins to set
That true blue you horizon, love scenes not written yet
And hey, there have been sundowns, that thundercloud in roll
But that don’t mean submission is the call that should be tolled
With random precision we wing out our terrors
We weed out the weaklings and weed out the errors

I can hear dreams on parade
Clowns out dancing in the street
I can hear the flash of the blade
Feel the warmth of blood on my feet
We will razor the next revolution
Realities shatter and fall
Until that one thought makes its collision
And my soul can be put back on call

We resemble our way to appearance
Facsimile right off the screen
While we handcuff ourselves to adherence
A scripted and vacated scene

We delusion ourselves to religion
What is right has consumed our rights
That wrong and that right are the vision
Of a child left scared in the night

I’ll dismantle my way to my structure
That way down, that just what I am
Life is the perfect instructor
And death is the final exam