LIFT
“I pick up my ax
and fight like a farmer now . . .”
- Jimi Hendrix
sorry
but look at our history
the misery
of the human family –
the guides and the wise
who you could not feel
the many
you have killed
nailed
to crosses
brains blown out
always
counting losses
so if i believe
that a word
is an immeasurable gift
capable of healing
and casting magic –
if such an abstract thing
can provide flight
giving a mystical lift
then let me be
free
from this fabricated realty
and become aura
and become light
oh, i
try to love
every day
i ever search
for the perfect medicine
to take the sadness away
oh, i
try to love
every day
i must get the poison out
and allow the pain
to fade
i must i must
get the poison out
get the poison out
and allow the pain
to fade
it seems
the more
you learn
the more
you burn
but heat
rises
up