The Movers and The Shakers

Knowing I needed to stay away
hoping that there would be time
someday
At the end of the alley
on cold streets of Cali
Will they feel?
Do they even know what's not real?
Can I reach out my hand
and make them understand
that I think they are dead inside?

Can't they all just run and hide
from the pain and indecision
that they've all been missin'?

It's tired

When the leader of a company
walks around all frumpy and
wired
The only way to get through
it is to show him how many
of us have
class
Style, and finesse coming out of pinkies
and a*s

Walk with me to see
that there's a place in this would
called dignity
Either spelled with a capital
It's all about the capital
Can you count?
Feel
all the people with their hands out
looking for a hand out

It's them
Trying to put together a hymn
after clearing their throats of phlegm
out-screaming him
and upstaging them

It's just pathetic
Personalities in a box so red it makes them
magnetic
But they walk like zombies
and talk like zombies

They're scared

Can't you see it in their eyes
after all the cries and the lies
it's themselves they despise
but they all get a rise
when they amend their ties
and fix their demise

Surmise

Happy People love shiny days
Hurt People look for more painful days
and Sadness spills
from the cup of thrills
and the bottle works the throttle
better than a model
Yet the cameras go
click, click, click
while the mind goes
tick, tick, tick
for the sick, sick, sick