Slave To Life

What a skeletal wreck of man this is
Translucent flesh and feeble bones
The kind of temple where the whores and villains try to tempt the holistic tones
Running rampant with free thought to free form, 
in the free in the clear
And the matters at hand are shelled out 
like lint at a laundrymat to sift and focus
On the bigger...better...now...

We all have a little sin that needs venting
Virtues for the rending and laws and systems and stems 
that riff from the branches of office
Do you know what your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose? or purposely serve?

Wind down inside atavistic galore
The value of a summer spent and a winter earned

For the rest of us there is always Sunday
The day of the week that reeks of rest 
but all we do is catch our breaths
So we can wade naked into the bloody pool
And place our hand on the big black book
To watch the knives zig zag between our aching fingers

vacation is a countdown
T-minus your life and counting
Time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube 
and hope you get a taste

What the [bad word] is all this for?
What the hells going on?
Shut up!

Remember..
You're a wreck
An accident, 
forget the freak, you're just nature
Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean,  [bad word] snort and blaspheme
Let the heads cool and the engine run
Because in the end 
everything we do...
Is just everything we've done