The mental mad man's drawing stories from symbols up and down the street,
I've a desire to enquire why, but I know that his soul don't speak.
he just keeps his head down and drags his dangling feet,
But still the ladies treat him sweetly
And always give him plenty of food to eat,
While the foolish follow each other searching through his symbols looking for the secrets they keep.
and Beethoven came back last week busking the blues on the very same street,
And all people passed him by, uninterested by his modern melodies or beat, not one left a penny at his feet
as they saved all their change for the tax man keep,
This ticking time bomb is spinning in circles and it's getting a little odd,
and my maiden Mona Lisa's been rejected from another modelling job,
and The Pope has lost all faith in God,
tempers have flared and the two peas no longer get along in the pod.
and pearl Harbour is still harbouring hate for all of us,
And still nobody listens to the modern day Nostradamus.
Well, didn't the lord Jesus Christ try to warn us twice?
But then again i remember we've only read the devil's rewrites.
This is what fear incites in our darkest nights.
When history becomes a riddle
And the truth we can find becomes so little,
Our reality becomes a pretty brittle.
When we can't learn from our mistakes
Because our history has been wiped from the slate,
Our inner intuition we must awake,
because our souls no what's real from what's fake,