A month of trials and tribulations
Enough to drive a saint insane
Oh, don't be so hard on yourself
It's just part of the political game
I'm not meant for this
Phony, slap the back, kiss your ass
BS, and someone better quit
Or not all the money in the land of milk and honey
Is gonna buy me an acquittal...

Honesty don't mean nothing
Unless a gang is backing you
Scowl on their faces and bright shiny pistols
Gonna hang you out to dry
Try fighting the system
Yeah, it may be flawed
But it's still a beast
And all the heroism is thrown out the window
When you got to eat...

Change, new sheriff in town
Gonna clean up the mess
Yet ego, greed and thirst for power
Is a recipe for diaster as
It's the same old sturm and drang
Only the faces have been redrawn
As we swallow another snootful of lies
Say goodbye 2 utopian dreams
And be prepared to be raped again
By the god damned machine...

When you can trust no one
But the God of your understanding
That's a hell of a blow
To the blind faith in mankind
So the last recourse is a pistol
Or a bottle of rye
A cliche becomes the easy way out
How about a home in the desert
Away from the madness?
Lick your wounds and perhaps
Try again when the insanity
Is all said and done
You have nothing to prove
You played the game and lost miserably
But left on your terms
With intergrity and psyche intact
Just barely...
Yesterday wasn't that simple
But wisdom never is
One day, they'll see you
For who you really are
What it is, I can't say
But revelations are gradual
These trials and tribulations
Have a way of passing just
Like the pages of a perverted yearbook...

P-Sep 4, 2008.