The Knife

I’ve been thinking a lot

About doors and locks

And old people’s homes

About walls and borders

And law and order

And living alone

And I’ve been really tryin’

To resist resigning

To this hopeless feeling

Of hatred and fear

Of the far and near

Cause it’s all too convenient

And I’m sick of claiming

That the points I’m making

Are wiser than yours

Cuz I stole my truths

From books, old and used

And they’ve all been said before

The wiseman sits ‘neath the willow tree

While the madman fights for total sovereignty

And I was born with a mystic’s mind

But still my hand reaches for the knife

I’ve been thinkin’ lately

About retirin’ safely

And mortgage loans

About competition

And displacing ambition

And livin’ alone

I been really wondrin’

If blood means something

Is it freedom or fate?

Is the story of history

What I do or I don’t see

Of the shining or the slave?

Cuz I swear these books

Tell me that nature looks

A lot like the economy

That life is a contest

Set on conquest

Callous, godless, and free!

The Buddha sits ‘neath the willow tree

While Alexander fights for total sovereignty

And I was born with a mystic’s mind

But still my hand reaches for the knife