We grow up on fairy tales
And Santa Clause
And for a brief moment
We believe in magic
But as we grow
As we get exposed to reality
As the wheel turns . . .
We learn the truth
Magic isn’t real
And this world burns underneath our feet
While we tiptoe on a wire above
With flames flickering at our heels
Darts being shot down from the ivory towers
Bullet’s wiz by our ears
Bombs drop around us
Satellites record it for the heavens to watch
Where the grasshoppers clap and laugh at us
While they watch us dance to their whims
One wrong step away from becoming bacon
. . . We grow up listening to Flick
Believing that us ants have a chance
We don’t
There are no heroes
The poison is hope
No one around here would ever take a stand like Flick did
There are no heroes or villains
What's down here is us
It’s just us down here . . .
A bunch of damn cowards
With no magic and no chance
The fairy tales are just stories
Everything you see
That’s our fault
Gulp.
CH 3/9/25
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