Be Myself

to my right the missionaries stand
on the left the salvating prospectors glance
straight ahead the dreamers walk with a dance
in behind, la dame, the lady of the night is in a trance

 

What flavour do I choose to be this night
amongest this lively cast
Shall I be the ultimate dreamer,
fill my blood with pleasure poison
and all the dirty water I can find
to be like the mighty others.

 

Shall I choose the prospector
and join their voyage in discovery
and famine for lust,
to fill the heart with momentary delights.

 

the missionaries preaching still stand
their chaotic chatter makes no sense
I could be one of them
and make my words a meaningless dance

but wait, la dame in behind
beckons with silicone and plastic
with promises of cheaply fulfilled fantasies
with no need for tomorrow.

 

As I glance upwards
into that darkness we call night
surrounded by tempt with all in sight
a sly grin falls upon me
for I'm just happy
to be myself.