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Saturday, November 11, 2017

Get Off . . .

. . . the Floor . . .

At heaven's door we pick the lock
When all we had to do was knock
Though Alice she rattles her train of chains
The fetters are inward all the same

Take a look as you fall
Passing through another wall
Here is where the corn is cut
The wind comes down
Get off the pot
Get off the pot
Get off the pot

It's your world the way that you live
Eats the smile right off your face         
You're not in Kansas anymore
I am the sheath I cry for more

Biding trends and waves of shock
The turbulence it turns me on
Nonetheless we're born and rocked
By divas, drunks and Barbie dolls

I signed up for high-wired acts
If I lose my balance just cut me some slack
I'm holding out for what can be
Emc squared possibility

Experience to be alive
The abstract now is literalized
You have dreams and nightmares to explore
Get the goods
Get off the floor
Get off the floor
Get off the floor

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