I will not bandy words with philosophers,
They can be the same as false prophets.
I’ve been a philosopher before,
I nearly killed my friend with words.
There are greater ones than those great ones,
But instinctively they all try to be like the other ones.
I have been the other one and the unnamed,
And both are as anonymous as the great.
I once heard, “I was a lover before this war“,
And I will be again.
They’ve given up on Jesus where I’m going,
But still crucify him where I’ve been.
All will have to walk through the fire,
And all will have to be burned.
I can’t say I’ve been burned yet,
But meekly felt the heat off the fire.
Being obscure isn’t a sin,
Neither is being known.
Loyalty is heartfelt and given over and over again,
Disloyalty is showing colors to people you can’t see.
There are no spaces to occupy here,
You either are or you are not.
I’ve been and I have ceased to be,
I’m accepting both as a moral possibility.
Can’t you scream the blues at the empty world,
Or do you have to have someone listening?
When you do something do you imagine someone is watching secretly,
And do you act accordingly?
There’s a person living with a heart big enough for you,
And either you’ll leave them, or they’ll leave you.
It’s a great big city to see and be seen,
You’re leaving tranquility again.