Needle to arm to bring on the sleep
Enter Sandman to ward off the creep
Drinking in the sweet nectar of nocturnal illusions
That only serve to feed prodromal delusions
Awake Dead Man again to try and capture the wind
That to your will never quite seems to bend
Crafting plans of long, longer, and longest scope
Serving only to siphon off any semblance of hope
Shouting Order won’t calm the chaos
No more than demanding that Love rise above the chorus
Presenting the Precious to the Profane
And then to wonder why the Spirit waxes, wanes
But Oh for Ghostly Machine and Placebo to combine
To pierce the veil of perspective, redefined
To finally believe that life is in the doing, not the viewing.
Copyright Jeff Drury 2010
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