What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

Delusion and confusion are two separate things,
Like with state-sanctioned torture of its own citizens,
I’m not talking about my history for glory,
What I’ve experienced in our mental hospitals is not just a story

Since I mentioned the word torture,
You may want some evidence,
You can focus on needles and restraints,
Without ever understanding what was done to my head

You think I’m crazy? Does that make it ok?
If I’m insane, psychotic, nuts or mentally ill?
The truth is I’m probably human… if you can’t already tell.

If you didn’t notice we never asked who or what you are.
Is this torture punitive or treatment, do you even care at all?

I care that you’re gonna take these pills or I’m gonna shove ‘em down your throat.

But Doc, this is America, in case you didn’t know.

Hate to break it to you this but in this house its me who’s in control,
And if I ever let you out of here, you’ll be glad, now say “it’s so”

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

Don’t we have time, can’t I ask questions?

There’s no time to talk, I’m saying your emotions are like an infection,

But when you give me an injection,
You don’t know where your drugs are heading,

We don’t mind collateral damage, but don’t you worry,
This one’s just a salt, it’s like it’s a natural part of your physiology,
If it’s not working don’t despair,
We’ve got a treasure trove of options we can force upon you here

But Doc that’s not fair you’re treating something without evidence that its even fucking there

Not a problem, I have the power to declare you’re mentally ill,
And for the rest of your life, you’re gonna take these pills

You’re not listening, I’m telling you, there’s nothing to repair,
I know you believe I’m imbalanced and genetically unfit,
But believing isn’t knowing, you’re not being scientific

Sorry you had to learn about power this way,
But we wrote the DSM so your identity is defined by the diagnosis we made.

Up! – You made this shit up! – You sat in a circle pretending to be scientific and came up with these names to call people so you could brand them as subhuman so the state would let you torture them... I haven’t forgot.

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

Seclusion and restraint are two separate things,
I don’t need a United Nations Rapporteur on Torture to tell me it stings,
Forced treatment is torture, it’s the worst way to help,
If I believed its real, I’d say it’s the quickest way to hell,

Thanks for the feedback, but we’re not here to believe you,
Now that you’re leaving, how do you feel,

Like the only place I belong is a mental institute or jail,
How the fuck are you a doctor, when you’ve so clearly failed?

It’s obviously not me, it’s you, cause I own science,
that’s why we keep you here forever or until you buy it

So does that mean I should tell an employer about the bang-up job you’ve done?

No problem, we’ve labelled your existence a stigma, so you cannot go wrong

Thanks for that, Doc, but how do I talk to my family,
Cause no one will believe the shit you’ve done when it’s not shown on TV
You destroyed my ability to connect, And convinced me I’m broken,
You’ve tortured me and lied, While my family believes every word you’ve spoken

Complain all you want, it’s not my job to listen,
I’m too busy helping people, not excluding children

If you call what you do help, then that’s just fine and dandy,
And if my words ruin your life, then I’ll just call it branding

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

What have I done?
You may ask first.
You don’t ask them.
That’s what hurts the worst

I don’t wish that you tortured me in public,
but don’t force it on me to expose what you wanted,
cause my speaking about this may only make people afraid,
but it’s your power I’m coming after, so I don’t think I need to explain

What is crazy? It doesn’t show up in the DSM
Yet I fear it and believe it, cause I was once called ‘it’ by ‘them’
But what does it mean, if I’m as crazy as it seems,
Or worse yet, if I’m as normal as can be

If you wanna know what,
Then you’ve gotta know why,
Cause what you label crazy may be madness in disguise,
So who is it that decides?

Cause supposedly I’m crazy, though I can also tell you why
But why the fuck would I do that, when it’s so much safer to lie

Your stories and accusations, they’re all whats without whys,
Like the existence of a hell, they represent lies
If I’m talking about my wonders or trying to walk on water,
Why don’t you just call me an ass hole instead of calling a doctor.

Without knowing why someone does what,
You’re left with assumptions, not data, which are ideas not facts,
You’ve ruined the word ‘crazy’, and stamped it on my back,
You cast a spell on me that’s influenced the way I live and act.

My actions might have seemed sudden or maybe suspicious,
To observe from the outside what happened so quickly
But was anyone there to see me try,
Or did anyone ever ask me why,
Or did they just judge from what they could see,
And make up the rest inside for me

If I’m talking to myself, why the fuck would you be scared,
It just means that I’m conversing, peacefully, please pretend that I’m not there
If I’m sitting on the ground, I could be left alone,
There’s nothing crazy about sitting my ground,
though it may be dumb to choose when I have something to lose,
Though would it make a difference if I sat alone, or was surrounded by a sizeable crew,

Would your judgment change, or would you assume I must be sane just cause we’re a few
Sitting or standing alone, or tinkering with electronics in the unknown,
Experimenting in hiding, or protesting on stage,
I don’t see anything crazy ‘till your decision’s made

You call crazy what you can’t explain,
And assume its cause I’ve got some kinda fucked up brain,
I could tell you why I act the way I do,
It’s cause of you, I think we’ve all been fucked up too

I may believe in dinosaurs, time travel, and aliens,
Beliefs are what inspire, give hope, and drive our actions,
I believe anything is possible that cannot be proven not,
Though that’s a double negative, the belief is on the spot

Hardly crazy, though I cannot blame your doubts,
If I claimed to go to the 60’s, have met ET, and rode a brontosaurus back to the now

Is my imagination a defect or a broken circuitry?
It doesn’t seem like I’m broken if I’m still living, can’t you see?

But maybe… crazy…. maybe… crazy

Maybe I rode a dirt bike home when I was stuck without a ride,
Or paid a friendly cab driver too much for his time,
Or believed I could change the world by acting out of line,
I haven’t lost my mind, please just ask me why,
Though depending who you are, I might just have to lie

It must have been too crazy, it must have been my choice,
To wake up in a four-point restraint, alone, without a voice,
I’d say that shit’s crazy too, cause even you don’t know why,
You do this shit to people and make them want to die

Sorry for the grimness and anger to my tone,
These thoughts are just ideas, they can do no harm alone,
Yet I’ve had ideas and ambitions, and a hard to stop drive,
That have been called crazy, got me locked up, without a crime

Is that crazy? Or am I?

I’ve tried to find a diagnostic or a theory for what’s inside,
But since no one’s asked,
why, why, why,
I can’t tell if I’m crazy or if that’s just a lie

I struggle to trust myself when every single action,
Goes through a filter – “Is this crazy or not” I’m always fucking asking,

It slows me down, though at times I’ve lifted the crown,
To see past what’s been lacking, self-doubt and confidence, my entities attacking

The reality seems, that I’m still here to scream,
If I were crazy, I would have already drowned in,
a river of randomness, not explainable action,
so check your sources for who said “crazy”,
and ask them why they’re asking.

Call me a monster? that’s a soul-crushing word,
When you’ve been tortured into believing that your genes are disturbed,
As if somewhere in my biology there’s an undiscovered difference,
Destining me to be angry and express it with violence,

While I was diagnosed bipolar and schizoaffective,
What good’s a diagnosis when there’s no measurable evidence,
Though now that I hear voices, I’m empirically different,
Like having emotions, it’s an ability, there’s nothing wrong with my head

Is a mutant what you’d call me? Well wouldn’t you be one too?
cause every single one of us is in the genetically unique zoo.
But mutants aren’t monsters, we’re all humans, just like you
So decide for yourself if I’m a monster when I’m through

Don’t believe everything you hear and only half of what you see,
I’m not in a class of monsters, I’m just a new generation from an old colony,

There might be clones, yet no one knows,
Yet a microchip on your dogs’ bones
Could be the work of a monster
Or a team of heroes,

Is it a question of if we’re evolving
Or wasting time on the wrong problem that we should be solving,

Like how the word monster
Could be said about Richard Feynman,
Or the X-men, who said, Magneto’s not a monster he’s just misunderstood,
While Xavier’s got a school with kids we’d call cadets.
It’s not unlike a Jedi training school, nor a place we could forget,
Don’t you remember? Arnold was an iconoclast - not Miss Frizzle’s orange pet.

You may ask if a monster can love one more than they did before,
Not if there’s an asymptote
Or a love so strong from things she wrote,
That survival and extinction could make this bloke choke
Cause Frankenstein’s monster didn’t have a soulmate to sing
By a never-ending waterfall when he was suffering

Don’t believe everything you hear and only half of what you see,
I’m not in a class of monsters, I’m just a new generation from an old colony,

If I saw you suffer, and you didn’t see me cry
Would you call me a monster or say that I internalize.
I may cry while sleeping in, I can be afraid to be awake,
I’m just scared of how many hours that there are in a day.

Even when I’m hiding beneath my sheets I am reminded,
Depression is a loaded word that can medicalize by silence.
Now I walk among you with these new abilities in my head,
And if you’ve read your history, you might think some folks want me dead,

We’ve been tortured or enslaved, if the experiments matter,
though it’s not like what I read in the Willie Lynch letter,
if the Holocaust’s as awful, would that analogy work better?
I wish I didn’t need a historical reference to relate what’s the matter.

if I’m seen as a monster, I’m sorry for my choice of words,
I’ve tried to pick them well and avoid using threats of force,
like the ones I’ve heard before based upon a doctor’s choice,
who never said the word “monster”, though I felt it in their voice

So choose your words wisely, like when you use the word violence,
cause who it’s that’s committing violence tends to get to silence.
And if we resist, then it’s their fact that we’re dangerous,
As they lock us up and drug us, and remove our selves from us

Don’t believe everything you hear and only half of what you see,
I’m not in a class of monsters, I’m just a new generation from an old colony,

Was I created or was I made,
It doesn’t matter as much as those who came before and those still waiting to be saved,

If you call “it” an “it” and “us” a “them”,
Who’s the “you” that I referred to then?

I remember noticing when I was just a kid,
that my name and ID were on everything they read

I should have asked what do they use it for instead
My parents had me fingerprinted in case I got lost,
Somehow they assumed those records didn’t have a cost.
Now my purchases have barcodes, my cash is numbered too,
I’ve been inside a moving car with 5 GPSes under one roof,
There’s cameras at intersections, coffee shops, and banks,
And all of us are empowered with our own cameras, gee thanks,

I report my earnings to the feds, the states and to the cloud
And where I walk and where I talk can be seen when I’m not loud
There’s footprints in the sand from dinosaurs we know,
And IP addresses with time stamps from servers in Bangalore,
Langfang, West Des Moines, Hamina, and Bluffdale

They’re not the only ones, who know everything we do,
But with all this fucking data, they know exactly how we feel.
How we feel? How ‘bout our habits and routines,
Our average daily heart rate and how many steps we got to take,

Don’t forget the pills with microchips attached,
Ensuring our compliance, cause of course they’ve got our backs.

Even on a mountain, you could grab my blood,
There’s 123s like ABCs, but you can’t check me for lithium,

Cause I know just how to act,
Though it wasn’t fucking acting
When the lithium attacked on three different airplanes,
I could be wrong, I’m not a fucking doctor,
Nor was there one to help, ‘thank you’ to all those staff who,
Stepped up to the plate, and even rubbed my back for,
a minute while I laid, in the aisle and in the bathroom,
wondering if they would land if this was an emergency,
Or if I might just die of a prescripticide, we’ll see

What a luxury to die inside a plane,
instead of by my bathtub alone and as afraid,
From getting up from bed, and walking with a head,
That was altered by your force, oh shit, I passed out and hit the corner,

After years of being accustomed to your worst,
Operated by a doc and driven by a nurse,
As ordered by the law and fueled by a purse
I grew the wise and escaped your hearse,
Or so I thought, cause now its worse, its not a salt, inside your tracking,
it’s your attempt to make a perfect world, as if perfection’s lacking

but who is the “you” that has it, the power to control,
my media, my attention, or where I go with who,
I may be lonely, but with overreaching technology, I’m never quite alone,
We didn’t have to allow the launch of satellites,
or the installation of these towers,
That infiltrate our air space at every fucking hour,
Who allowed anyone to have this much power
Or permitted me to say these things for the public to devour

But what do I know, I’m just a civilian,
I don’t know how things work, I just know I’m scared

Someone know the songs I like, the emails I’ve read,
the websites I’ve clicked, what kind of bread I bake, and how long it takes to make
The prescriptions that I’ve filled, the people that I’ve kissed,
the roads that I’ve traveled, and the exits that I’ve missed

But if you think you know what’s next,
Or you think you know what’s best,
the best decision that I’ve made,
is still mine to tell the rest
Did I rip up my SSN,
or ever have one to begin,
cause what other ID,
did you assign my favorite twin?

Cause the only other thing,
than a driver’s license they don’t have,
is a birth certificate,
that says something about their past

But who needs to know, everything I wrote,
or the identity of my favorite secret poet

When the best way that I learn,
about my favorite world,
are from the stories that I’ve heard,
not from the things they never wrote.

When did this begin,
Does it matter how it ends?

Am I the only one uncomfortable,
Whenever songs conclude,
Then the silence on my radio,
is interrupted by the news,
that’s catered to an audience,
they tracked by attributes,

that coincides with where I am, and who I am, no matter what I choose,
I just wanna listen to my favorite song, without being abused

So thanks for the personalized ads, telling me exactly what I need,
but food, shelter, water, love, and knowledge are the way I prefer my feed.
My fingerprints are sanded down, and removed from my body,
but it feels like I’ve been branded permanently, like an alien whose eyes you can read

You want more proof, put down this note, and take out a lie detector,
It may be that the things I say, I say just to protect her,
What? You wonder? Could a leprechaun produce a modern lecture,
How could you doubt this shit is real while people do not trust their water?

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,
Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

It’s not physics or spirits or magic,
The most powerful force on earth,
Is the output of our hearts in action

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,
Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

What is a sin? Christians tell ya,
On the way to the hell that they sell ya,
How could anyone believe there’s a hell that exists,
Just cause its printed in a book placed inside a baby’s crib

Whose to choose the Jews, were they the first who knew?
Can you even become one, without genes or I do’s?
They seem like they read their books, and then debate the verses,
But that doesn’t mean they know where we’re headed when its curtains

I’ve heard that the Qur’an implies we’re all Gods,
That’s something I can agree with, though it’s packaged up with flaws
Yet another religion that includes a hell and heaven,
Why preach in ways that threaten instead of offering a suggestion

Hindus believe we go somewhere and then come back again,
And Buddhists believe in nothingness, so how’d it all begin?
Why put such trust in ancient scrolls by those who claim to know,
Who do not offer evidence of where we come from and where we go

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

It’s not physics or spirits or magic,
The most powerful force on earth,
Is the output of our hearts in action

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

It seems wrong to create our laws,
From texts with stories meant as a tool,
So I hope it’s not a crime in our land
If I get my teachings from a squirrel

It seems pretty obvious that life’s present at conception,
Though it was also there before so why’d we make up an exception,
Is it lazy or our best that whenever things get messy,
We blindly reach for passages we claim came from the heavens,

Why when we cannot decide, do we claim faith without a question
I wish someone one had talked to me, cause it took time, tears, and an intention
Not just the violation of my unrequested circumcision,
But to own that I have feelings about what’s happening to women

What could be so special about new human beings,
To sacrifice the one you love, for one that’s not yet breathing,
Reproduction’s not a miracle, when even squirrels can do it,
And if there is an afterlife, why wouldn’t they be there with us

So who’s to say when something’s sacred?
Or who’s to decide how someone made this?
I just want the truth, though I do believe in something,
But if the afterlife’s just humans, so much for evolution

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

It’s not physics or spirits or magic,
The most powerful force on earth,
Is the output of our hearts in action

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

To think of something useful religion has to offer,
It’s simply not enough that I can have friends for just a dollar,
If your utility is proven, then shouldn’t we feel liberated,
But blood and scars and question marks, leave us humans subjugated,

To these words you’ve thrust on us,
Read this, believe this, you must, we trust,
Yet the sun and the rain and the earth forms a crust,
Claim what you want, I can eat from the mud,

We shouldn’t need to fear what happens when we’re dead,
Though I sure do like history, our futures are unread
I wonder how it started, how could they convince the masses,
To live in fear perpetually about what will happen after this

Something just seems logical, that it’s not so bad what follows
In fact, I think it’s great for all, it’s as beautiful as the cosmos
In the absence of the truth, religion offers nothing one can use,
And their influence over marriage and death is lose-lose,

No one should control who you love and make you afraid of where you go
People who don’t know you, shouldn’t tell you what to know
I might as well just take the leap and go this way alone,
And give my chances to the stars and squirrels who say, -----
What ever they want, just listen when they sing

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

It’s not physics or spirits or magic,
The most powerful force on earth,
Is the output of our hearts in action

Where do we come from,
Where do we go,

If there’s a beginning and a middle and an end,

This is where I wait, for the person that I love, until they get back, from wherever they have gone

then we’re somewhere in between the beginning and the middle

Growing in the dirt with the microbes and the worms
that can’t be heard without a shovel in your hand and an ear to the ground

From a seed there is knowledge that we know now to be true.
To experience yourself and learn it’s like a book without the glue.

Visions, indifferences, memories, and scars,
Are there mysteries in the earth that are missing from the stars?

If vaporizers are the future of cannabis and tabacum,
Will the truth persist so we can remember where plants come from?

If there’s a beginning and a middle and an end,

This is where I wait, for the person that I love, until they get back, from wherever they have gone

then we’re somewhere in between the beginning and the middle

n. rustica and c. sativa on the shelves in patterns like blue dreams in purple skies,

who the fuck are you, what did you come to share, how important is your story,
and how are you to be used for your good intentions to be true.

Back to the root of the issue,
fertilize your soul and grab yourself a tissue
cause legalized emotions are not just for the few.

Are you safe or dangerous,
are you worth the try,
does your name matter,
how much can we buy?

What species is a hybrid, how about tobacco too?
If I don’t know what I’m smoking, then how the fuck would you?
How can we tell the truth, without someone who knew,
not just where its planted, and not just how it grew

I’m talking about a truth, that not only shamans knew
It’s not quantum mechanics, and I’m not claiming that I do

If there’s a beginning and a middle and an end,

This is where I wait, for the person that I love, until they get back, from wherever they have gone

then we’re somewhere in between the beginning and the middle

Photos of the leaves would be nice to see,
where do you come from, what color are your eyes,
are there so many varieties or just some in disguise,

Are you sticky, are you icky, has your flower run dry,
Why are you so accessible, when your seed’s so hard to find
Have you been fucked by governments, or religious groups who,
Couldn’t find the space to explore the world with you

You’re so understanding and forgiving too,
Why can’t we find the time to take care and nurture you?

This is where I wait, for the person that I love, until they get back, from wherever they have gone

Though I’ve read Alexander, I’ve not lived in rat park
If connection’s what’s been lacking, where went the magic from the start,
What once was fun, transcribes a book undone,
Is it patience or persistence that’s been lost or won?

Can the secrets of the sacred be shared this fast,
How much time’s passed, since what’s remembered stays to last,
Where’s the doubt when time’s this spread out,
Is there connection to what’s spiritual, that may be found without?

What is it we’re looking for? Love and gratitude?
Or a humbling acquaintance that’s out looking for food?
We’re all in this together, yet we’ve got attitudes,
And fighting for survival, is just want plants do

Like parsley and thyme, tea and ginger root
We shouldn’t need an herbalist to tell us what they do,
Yet a potato in a field has eyes that can see through you,
As our vibrations in the earth, echo them a tune

If there’s a beginning and a middle and an end,

This is where I wait, for the person that I love, until they get back, from wherever they have gone

then we’re somewhere in between the beginning and the middle

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

It feels like there’s a problem, that I cannot quite define,
Where the things that we believe, and know are not aligned
What’s impossible that’s real, What’s the possible we fear
And what’s the truth within our hearts that we all wish was here

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

How do we trust, when we cannot know,
The beliefs and the intentions of the people we don’t know.
We want to trust the world the way we trust ourselves,
But if deceit and greed surround, we’re fending for ourselves,

Where do our doubts come from, is it cause we fear ourselves?
Or is there really evil, ‘or is, or is’ dispels
I grew up sensing tribalism of families, towns and regions,
And it didn’t feel much different when I was living in a city,

What changes for brief moments, like those first two weeks of school,
When a community of young transplants needs and wants to meet their fools,
Without having doubts, about their intentions,
When we feel we need each other, our fears we give less credence,

I’ve sensed this at summer camps, conferences and black outs,
An opening of our hearts, a disappearance of our doubts,
So where does this trust go, when we leave these villages,
That suddenly we fear, and distrust shows up within us

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

It feels like there’s a problem, that I cannot quite define,
Where the things that we believe, and know are not aligned
What’s impossible that’s real, What’s the possible we fear
And what’s the truth within our hearts that we all wish was here

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

Is it when we all agree, or is it when we see,
A reflection of ourselves in our present company,
Is that why things feel different when I’m watching a tv,
Or am I just addicted to the ideas like conspiracies,

Or do I just have doubts when I do not know the person,
Who is reading off the news or controlling someone’s industry,
Or are we all just doing the best that we can, without the
Selfish, greedy powers generated by my head,

Or have I read too much, or perhaps just not enough,
How has knowing what’s a fact become so fucking tough
Or have I not seen enough or met enough of the people,
Who I would fear would hurt me if they were given power

Is the left too controlling, is the right too apathetic,
Or is this all about money, does over-generalizing make me pathetic,
Are there consequences for my feelings that are affecting my own family,
And how can I prioritize them when there’s only just one planet

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

It feels like there’s a problem, that I cannot quite define,
Where the things that we believe, and know are not aligned
What’s impossible that’s real, What’s the possible we fear
And what’s the truth within our hearts that we all wish was here

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

If we trust those who are close or those we feel alike,
why do our hearts ever close, this is just a feeling, right?
I often feel that I can barely trust my own judgment,
So why the unsettling fear in trusting someone else’s

How do I trust my feelings, are they supported by the facts,
What information’s missing, is it belief or lack of facts,
What questions should I ask, how could I trust the answers,
I just want to believe in people and celebrate with dancing,

I notice I have faith in individuals and small groups,
But there’s an upper limit to this feeling, where my doubts loop
Why would I expect your trust, though I feel I can relate,
To just about anyone, even those who you may hate,

Does that seem believable, why do I fear your doubt,
If you do I think I’d understand, I’ve felt my doubts out loud,
If this trust’s important, should I feel the need to trust you,
I sure as fuck want to, but how does good trust grow?

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

It feels like there’s a problem, that I cannot quite define,
Where the things that we believe, and know are not aligned
What’s impossible that’s real, What’s the possible we fear
And what’s the truth within our hearts that we all wish was here

It feels like there’s a problem, that I cannot quite define,
Where the things that we believe, and know are not aligned
What’s impossible that’s real, What’s the possible we fear
And what’s the truth within our hearts that we all wish was here

Helpless feelings, I can’t trust them anymore
Growing within us, sounds we’ve never felt before,

Tell me your story, if it’s not rude to ask,
You seem like you’d know from all the years passed,
What questions should I ask to learn what will be missed
Like what do you regret most doing and how’d you handle raising kids?

I feel like there’s an absence, of value to our people,
The older they get, the more that they’re cared for,
But are they cared about? It’s their wisdom I’m after,
Hearing their stories, and connecting with laughter

After so many years spent being productive,
It feels like our elders are dismissed, separated, and shut in.
The obvious procedure, for aging and growing,
Is to pass on knowledge and graciously accepting

How is it reasonable to think I know more,
Than anyone who arrived to this planet before,
I’d like to think I’m smart from what I’ve read and experienced,
Yet I source from accumulated knowledge and have an unfulfilled yearning,

To know and see everything, from standing on the shoulders of giants I trust,
If we don’t engage with our elders, their central nervous system will rust,
I know the imagery may be dreary, so why do the halls of nursing homes feel like machinery,
A system of systems that shuffle humans around, ignoring their humanity till they’re put in the ground,

Are we all destined to be data blips, getting our food on a conveyor,
When it appears that our ancestors, knew a way better

I’ve seen a sadness and despair in our health care facilities,
That doesn’t belong at the finish line of the living.
I may just be cynical, from seeing our elders get trapped without love,
But if we truly value people, we wouldn’t treat them like junk,

Can they not participate, have we forgotten they’re citizens?
My grandma could barely walk but still she babysitted

And she crushed crosswords and Jeopardy,
with a calmness and ease,
Why didn’t I ask more questions,
Or help her to escape

How do we learn where we come from,
And understand our paths,
When families keep secrets,
and those who reveal them are branded outcasts
The truth is hard to find when it’s contained in our heads,
And sadly this knowledge is buried with the dead,

When I think of those I’ve learned from, I have to admit,
it’s from those who I admire, like Martin, Malcolm, Judi, and David,
I can’t neglect my parents, uncles, aunts, sister, and brothers,
What I’ve learn from observations from all those who’re older,

plus Feynman, Newton, and don’t forget Einstein,
why didn’t Sandler include him in his songs, is it cause his name doesn’t rhyme?
These people are like heroes, why would they lose their ability,
to continue to contribute, like age is a disability,

while we’re on the topic of excluding humans,
don’t neglect those labelled disabled who are forcibly shut in,
Many healthy people who are locked in these facilities,
Are being forcibly drugged against their own wishes,

I hear phrases like quality of care replace quality of life,
I can’t imagine my quality of love if I was told I’m too old to live with my wife,
I’d rather live in the community than be cast out of my home,
I’ve never seen animals force other animals to be alone,

And who would I be to control someone whose lived twice or three times as long
when I can hardly pick the best words that they make like in a song
How could I dictate where they should live,
when they may enjoy their neighbors or prefer to sit and read their pages,

to what extent are we exchanging safety and security,
for a life of hidden misery, that we never have to see,
like a retirement home is a haunted house on an island off the Cape,
Where you’re tortured with boredom, isolation, and pain,

and if you’ve got a symptom they can give you something,
So who the fuck owns my grandma when these decisions get made.

it all seems disturbing, if we cannot trust,
the ocean of people who came before us,
who can still play the drums well beyond the time,
when their dance is done, they can still pound without needing to rhyme

So why dye your hair, to hide that you’re aging,
Grey is a celebration of wisdom, not something that’s faded
Though don’t take my advice, if you prefer the way you made it,
and if you’ve got none left, then fuck it, sorry to sound jaded

I’m exhausted is all, I’m sorry if you can relate it,
feels unfair being a person admitting he hates that,
I’m constantly needing to prove myself worthy,
to make my own decisions and be considered a person.

I fucking miss your soul and I dreamt yours missed mine too,
You’ll always be my baby and my queen, it’s true, you’re two
In case that I misspoke, or was mistook for a joke, I cherish
Every single word you said, especially ones you wrote
Staring at the stars at night, entangled with your tune
I look up and think about you and I hope you think so too,

When will it stop, this space-like exile,
Without your love, your voice, your smile,
To remember is painful, yet every laugh worthwhile

When I hear your mind, every moon your gone,
I wish I could trade my fucking shadow just so we could sing this song,

It hurts that we’re apart, if I’d know this from the start,
I could never have prepared to prevent a shattered heart
These tears are real, this torments real, I know I’m not psychotic just because of how I feel,

How could you ignore the path to heal,
When our lives remain with so much to reveal

I know that I left, but you left more,
Can our story not continue without fear cancelling our tour
What have we done and what will we do next,
I recall the words I heard and the times you brought me bread,

I want this shit forever too, now let’s bake some love instead,
then run and tell the neighbors and our family and our friends

As I feel the memories fading, what broke, I ask of you,
I’m left missing the vibrations from when you say you love me too,
the echo of your voice is still my single favorite tune,
And all your special gifts have a sapes ni am trahh oot

What is our story, are we the ones writing it,
if this is life is ours, then it’s worth fighting for, isn’t it,
So kick down the door and light a few matches,
I could care less who sees what may happen

Though I can’t whisper, I can sure shout,
Fuck any mother fucker who thinks they can change my heart,
Who else could I talk to that can match my wit,
And challenge me and inspire me while refusing to quit

Though I’m scared, I still persist,
refusing to believe you’ll forever be missed
Your laugh, your hair, your musk, your touch,
Forgive me if I sound ill, saying that I can’t get enough

Yet I can’t be sick, if I survive day after day,
Persistently breathing, so I could learn to write this way,

Through art, obstruct, with tender sway,
‘Till love persists to light the way,
Through our dreams till it shines your face,
And when the time comes that you could leave, instead, you stay.

This sounds for you, from my heart to you,
This is not a love letter, it’s a motherfucking tune
I know how my soul stirred when I first heard your song,
Echoing off a waterfall, from your heart, and from your lungs,
Sharply shaped by your wicked tongue
That forever with you is where my love belongs

Now that you know how I feel, I don’t know what to do,
Except accept the possibility that it’s just how you feel too
What I’d like to know and I hope you make this true,
Is to sing to me the moment, of when you loved me too

Was it when I bumped my head or when we danced instead,
Was it something that I said, or something that I wrote,
Or when I walked beside you in the silence in the snow,
Was it when we sat and pondered what the ancients wrote,

Or when we planned to execute our maiden freedom show,
Was it art and expression or discussions about heaven,
The way the world works or the way some dogs twerk,
Was it a moment, a second, a line or a verse,

How the fuck did it happen, cause how does love work?

Gather round the circle, it’s your first day of school,
You’ll be doing as I say, and learning what you’re told,
We start now when you’re young cause it’s like this when you’re old,
So introduce yourselves, we’ll start with you, now go

You’ll know me as the twelfth name on your list,
I’m a learning machine by nature and I’m too young to be dismissed.
But I’ll sit in the corner with my crayons, glue, and math,
Cause everyone around me says that’s the best path,

Does this seem normal, does this seem right? ‘Thankfully,
There’s no time for questions, or questioning in sight,’
‘Go play some games with the kids your own age,
And trust everything will be all right in the end,’

Since I’m just four, that seems pretty fair,
But is it fair that you’re gonna talk about me without out me to my parents?
Will you tell them about the bullying? I’m worried I might be one too.
Should I be reassured my parents placed their trust in you?

Don’t despair, that’s prolly a lot of unnecessary pressure on you too,
that I can’t cut out a circle or rhyme with try-and-glue,
Is there anything else that you’ve been told to teach me,
I know I’m just four, but what about our history

This all seems pretty simple, worksheets and tests,
If this shit was designed, who said it’s the best,
'Not to worry, what would you rather instead,
you know there’s worse ways, anything betters in your head”

But I’m 12 now, don’t my ideas matter,
If I’m old enough that some kids are fathers,
And mothers, with honor roll mentions and spelling bee trophies,
How much did I learn in the last 8 years that I still can’t pick my seat

When will I need this, just for next semester?
But everything that I’ve been doing has been to climb up this ladder,
How high does it go, I didn’t notice it was all one piece,
When I went from grade to grade, it seemed significant

Yet how many times have I learned about Thanksgiving,
While being required to refer to the native people as Indians,
That was just an example, I understand why you’re making that face,
While I’m struggling to accept our country’s history’s a disgrace,

And that there’s clearly one kid in this room being forced in last place,
I know I’m only 12 and barely know the words to the pledge,
And you’re a full-grown human who’s just doing what they said,
I may not know shit but I can sense what’s controlling you too

Now can you help that kid out, and throw out the rules,
We all may just benefit, in the worst case, we’re fools.

I’m still sitting here, after passing all this time,
If its college I’ve been preparing for, I should probably smile
They accepted me, so I guess that’s what this means,
That everything we did together went exactly as was planned

So why the sudden attitude, what’s changed since I was 12,
That all this felt so controlling and I feel so alone,
The trophies and accolades, the A’s and B’s you demanded,
While I’m not free to walk the halls or be in the cafeteria,

I switched over to this magnet school thinking I’d feel better,
The kids are nicer prolly ‘cause they fucking chose to be there,
But why’s there so much pressure chasing letters just for letters,
It’s for someone else’s approval, isn’t it, but does it really matter?

If I can’t form my own opinion of myself, then isn’t that a problem,
Using critical thinking to make good judgments would sure as fuck be helpful
‘If you’re so unsatisfied then why’d you choose this road to being?’
No one told me there were options, I was taught just to keep climbing,

‘And who taught you that? Was that in the curriculum,’
I kinda fucking doubt it, not much I can do now

Was it worth it all?
The time and money invested for my inevitable fall?
I cannot blame my college or my K-12 schools,
But something’s gone wrong, when I’m lacking the tools,

I could analyze what I was taught, but not what was left out,
Resulting in my inability to function in a world without
Prescribed expectations, order, judgment and limits,
If I don’t see where I fit in, then I must be the idiot.

But how can this be if I’m so fucking great,
At least that’s what the report cards and transcripts all say,
I can find work, so I guess, ‘thank you’, to school,
But that’s a long fucking time to be under control

Without being prepared for a dystopian world
Where there’s not enough salary to bribe your own soul,
To not feel something when you feel you’re in hell
What am I a part of? And what’s not for sale?

Have I wasted my time? do I have the appropriate skills?
Should I be doing something more than just climbing a hill?
Is there even a life worth living beyond paying bills?
Or is this world all about money, power, and/or control.

So what would I teach kids, I tried my best,
I don’t think they believed a word that I said,
You don’t have to be here, you don’t have to do this,
Why not take ownership of your life and make your own choices,

If you come back tomorrow, I’ll try to be here,
Please know that I’ll miss you, but I encourage your vigor
If this is holding you back or wasting your time,
What else could you be doing, what’s possible with your life?

Cause if I’m sending you homework, now your home life is mine.
To what extent is your life being gambled with time,
On ideas invented before you, and some based on bribes.
You could organize to change this, or escape, why not try?

If you’re telling me you’re forced to be here, I don’t wanna force you to work
though I’m sorry I didn’t let you sleep, I sincerely felt like a jerk,
I just wanted you all to leave better than when you walked in the room,
But it’s your definition of ‘better’, not mine, that’s my tune

I’ve said If this world is part mine, then its part yours too,
So if you’ve got a complaint, who’s empowering you?
Are you looking for permission? It does not exist
You have unlimited freedom ‘till you don’t have the right to resist
So please cherish your time, it’s as valuable as mine,
Anyone who tells you differently is selling you a lie.