Selma on The Verge
I’m living with this unholy farce
Hidden so high away in the sky
Where the birds soar
Above our heads
Many maniacs have acted before me
Their birth a pretty grueling process
In turn this society weep
With the dissatisfaction of a dreamer that once
Thought there were going to be something else
To look forward to rather than this desolate entity
Thus, this anomaly floods through our brains
In an adamant turmoil
Beginning to make us bleed into blunder
And we live on; God’s rejects
Our home is the Wilderness
Where the animals lay
And dream.
Our place in society bland
All they see is this bane wickedness
This concept of the group that I am born into are all ill conceived
And we admit ruins us
But we are still breathing
An so, let us begin the re-socialization process
Place us in our total institution
Where we can bathe and breadth
Resting our weary heads on our white sheets
To lazily slumber on
With our eyes wide open
Tell me now, who have I influenced?
My power further disperses as it leaves my heated body
Seeping any of the energy I have to dispel into anyone of great inspiration
If I cannot resist my malignant master status
Then I’ll conceal my wilderness in the sky
Where my thoughts can float free
Onto a deserted pasture
And what faith cannot seek,
Are our demented souls roaming alone?
My neighbors will congregate to commence this involuntary degradation
And I’ll tell Mary that her mother was a whore.
But she already realizes that as she wallows in isolation
Her anti-social nature eating up her and others
Maybe her friend Selma can convince her to pursue support
Maybe it’s just too late
They’ll just stone her with their de-individualization