What is the world? What is this earth we inhabit? Who are we who are fortunate enough to inhabit it? I don’t know and I don’t think you know either. We’re all figuring it out but it seems to me those who think they have it figured out the most are often the furthest away from understanding shit. There’s people who claim to own parts of the earth, shit… I lived in Los Angeles and there’s people out there who believe they own the damn ocean. Swear to God they say the beaches are private, some will charge you to step foot on their patch of beach others won’t let you on at all. Ain’t that some bullshit? I suppose money talks and I’m not saying it wouldn’t be nice to have some but I fear it sometimes costs too much, not that I ever had much but when my pockets have been full they’ve been shared. I’d rather rather die with my hands open than my fists clenched tight. If I ever buy a beach which is highly unlikely I’d open her up for everyone, invite y’all down and share the land with all the people because as Woody Guthrie said This land was made for you and me and as Woody Guthrie wrote and Arlo Guthrie sung Nobody living can ever stop me, as I go walking my freedom highway, Nobody living, can make me turn back, This land was made for you and me.


The world is cold

Like a forgotten story I was told

If I may be bold

I’d say the world promises gold

Which doesn’t arrive till we’re all too old

The world is cruel

Like a three man duel

With one man left looking a fool

Living under a rich man’s rule

While I carry his bags like some kind of mule

The world is crass

Like another pedophile attending mass

A goddamn snake in the grass

Pretend people parading as they pass

My honesty turned me into an ass

The world is cryptic

Like a leaf is elliptic

Don’t mean to nitpick

Need to stop the bleeding like a styptic

The only future appears apocalyptic

The world is crazy

Like a kids cartoon directed by Scorsese

My memory is hazy

My dancing feet have grown lazy

But I want to dance till I’m finally pushing daisies

The world is chaos

Like spreading moss

A coin that won’t toss

Some office job without a boss

The Bible if it never had a cross

The world is clear

Like headlights and a deer

Collecting all the fallen tears

Keeping my distance trying to stay near

The world is full of bravery and fear