Michael McGuire Odd Numbers
ODD NUMBERS
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.
In the far corner of the trinity forsaken by the god of hosts, where the
children of the square peg are still haunted by Job’s ghost, symmetry
fortifies the killers pride of the brave, and yet there would be no
master if there were no slave, the vague wind of circumstance blows
from minute to hour, the bitterest seed thats sown reaps the sweetest
flower, the richest souls are born into poverty for life, some are
hardened into stone some see thru the strife.
God’s ways are mysterious but not any more so than mans, everyones
caught a glimpse of a different set of master plans, for some the world
is turning for others it is still, what can the victim say when he’s
approached for the kill, the outside is looking in while the inside is
looking out, each faith only as strong as the desperation of doubt, the
relative value wavers to and fro, some will see it thru others will watch
it go.
The biggest of ides will be laughed about someday, there is only
everything but thats for each to say, the equation is so precise yet it
draws a question mark, it takes the knowledge of the light to be afraid
of the dark, there’s a sucker born every minute or a reasonable
facsimile of, always on the receiving end when push comes to shove,
and though the womb of the world is lined with sorrow, there still
remains the inarticulate joy of tomorrow.
The lawless go around wondering who made the laws, or wondering
about the interpretation of a particular clause, their are those who
would cut off their thought to spite their mind, this whirlwind of
information can sometimes be quite unkind, the beauty mark of style
worn like a contemporary crown, it’s a circus but it’s hard to tell who’s
the clown, but the tightrope walkers are easy to spot way up on the
high wire, where you either have to be brave or stupid or have a bad
desire.
But it’s this repulsive nature that feeds this attraction, the same way
this unresponsive attitude cased this reaction, in a world where only
the unwilling walk on nails, heros spill their guts and dead men tell no
tails, a mongrel on a unicycle is not an inspiring sight, trying to avoid
the issue is the surest way to start a fight, the absolute is now just a
relative matter of legality, the most immoral things are done in the
name of morality.
Sometimes a theory of good intentions has no practical use, sometime
holding it back does more harm than letting it loose, but it wont make
it any better pretending that it’s fine, confusing the all to human with
the divine, predatory creatures on a handmade hunting ground,
nothing has been lost but something has been found, reason fakes it’s
purpose then seeks it’s pleasure, looking thru this trivial trash for a
trifling bit of treasure.
Lost in the eye of the beholder the subject becomes the object, the
abject eye that over looks all virtues but is quick to spot a defect, and
now the truth is so battered and bruised it has to limp to the witness
stand, and sometimes it’s so down and out a lie must lend a hand, and
there is no way to be sure when the truth does really lie, sometimes
it’s really hard to believe your eyes but I guess we have to try, but there
are some who would advocate the inspiration of doubt, and there’s no
doubt; doubts a belief that we cant live without.
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