The Ballad Of V.B. Owen

 

CGFC

-The day he found out Molly Ringwald turned down the movie Ghost.
-When the circuits got all realigned and the circuit boards were toast.
-Had to make another entrance, had to make another showing.
-At it again with all his friends, the final quarter for V.B. Owen.

-Well old V.B. stayed up late at night writing words and picking tunes.
-Moved his body around the court, mostly wore old tennis shoes.
-Had this super looking Visor, was green and see through.
-Nobody would ever know it, but the leaving leaves him blue.

-The work's just getting started, V.B.'s got bills to pay.
-Prolly live to a hundred or more, before he hits the grave.
-Those Owen folks live long if you check their family tree.
-Must be something in the wine they drink, makes them seem so free.

---cowritten by Griff.

House Of Bribes

 

Built on a house of bribes.  Got to follow through to keep your integrity, grifters move on to another town.  These are high class criminals in Washington DC, legitimized by titles and words.  Meeting in lobbies, meeting with lobbies, depositing lobbies.  Rats eventually point fingers at other rats, and the other rats point back.

And it continues like this, two rats pointing at each other, for years, for terms, for decades.  These must be important rats, able to avoid the rat traps, able to sniff out the rat poison, able to keep their rat claws off the rat glueboard, able to thrive and grow old and grey.  Like cockroaches, they scatter in light.  They die in light.

Take the 75 mile trip up to space, past the skin of our atmosphere.  Suspend your insecurity and envy for a moment.  Float with the gravity of rationality, see the world in its delicate condition.  As it is.  We're all just spinning, even the rats.

   

Liberty Will Swirl

Look past the masses, get to the point of sleep, good sleep.  Fresh minds can think it out better, clear the visions, calmly.  Panic is almost always a bad idea.  Determine your own thought process, develop it over time.  Talk yourself out of things, go against the instincts, ignore the gut.

As we slip into isolation and justification, remember the free flow of the ocean, back and forth, swaying.  Harmony already ingrained, swirling and swirling.  To resist is madness, to resist is doom.  It cannot be harnessed, liberty will not comply.  Liberty will swirl.

Lock your doors and rot in your rooms.  Not my kind of place, not my scene.  Exclusion is not exclusive, the secret's out.  Stand with your kind, I'll sit with mine, free thinkers, in the thinking hot tub, with thinking jets, and thinking bubbles.  Thinking tanks are so last decade.

Woken Dreams (Watch Me Flitter)

Watch me flitter, like a bug.
Don't get bitter, still in love.
Take these shambles, stack them high.
Damn the vandals, suck you dry.

Stars still glitter, like they do.
Full of tricksters, playing clues.
Bound for glory, moving feet.
Tells the story, from the streets.

Mop up hitter, clear the trash.
Stand up, Mister. Just a rash.
Quit your creeping, off my screen.
Keep on sleeping, woken dreams.

EB7GA

The Crease Grease

 

Took a pass on obvious election fraud, they'll pass on freedom of religion, speech, self-protection, and Gulag mandates.  And other liberties, depending on pigment.  Prolly ban the F word, considering its recent publicity.  Oh, and the Declaration Of Independence, along with Jefferson, has got to go.  God Save The Queen!

These nine'll do nothing, a broken branch for sure.  At least it's a solid industry, paid by the hour, crank it slow, new litigation opportunities on the horizon, slanders, larcenies, confinments.  Lawyers are brilliant digital paper pushers, the best in the land, the crack hunters.  The crease grease, they'll find it.  Most politicians are lawyers for a reason.

The flashlight burns bright, perhaps brighter than ever, the dark rooms are lit.  Good to know who your friends are, but critical to know where the enemy lurks.  Once uncovered, they got nothing to lose. The swarmy meddling becomes indignant orders, the fear of exposure becomes intentional division, the superiority complex becomes homicidal justification.  The way it's gone throughout human history.

You're Just Sucking

"No, no, I'm a lobbyist, I lobby."  But then I questioned their meaningless word, set it right.  Perhaps you're a bribist, giving bribes.  For favorable returns, of course.  For lucrative pursuits of noble conclusions.

"I resent that implication, I'm a professional."  Sure, the professional government class, heard all about it, you're the reason we don't have term limits for congress.  Heard it from a Senator himself, Cornball was his name, he's against any term limits because of the professional government class.  Might cramp his style, might expose his digital trail, might mess up his personal balance sheet.  Keep it quiet, everyone goes through the lobby to enter.

"How dare you claim I'm bribing the US Congress!"  Settle down, pumpkin spice.  Tough to realize, but it's true.  It's an organized crime, you're just a sucker.  You're just sucking.

Everyone Woke Up

Everyone woke up.  Some were alert, bright-eyes, rationality and reason.  Some were zoned out, still wired, frantic and numb.  We see you there, you scoundrels, you snakes, we're ready for you now.  We got more turf.

Take credit for something, your leadership is a hungry rodent, it must eat.  Deep down, it's a cannibal, it enjoys its own taste.  The fixers, the kiss of assers, and the fawning handlers, handling who knows what.  No one will catch them when they fall, they've earned their humbling, they should not trust others.  They will decay alone.

The re-emergence will be swift, liberty will not be denied, cannot be denied.  It's liberty.  The oppressors will be banished, the emperors will fade away, they will be exiled and ignored.  Banished to the past.  Stuck in time.