The Ocean’s Skin
Somebody suggests a different way to fix what is wrong
And all of the newspapers scuff scoffs and scorn
They say stick to the path and keep to the norm
They say you can only idolise that which is already born
The paupers are happy with their unbuttered corn
Money once again has sung, talked and sworn-
And then you notice one day that theme park sheen
Increasingly shapes and morphs the machine
And somebody peels back the ocean’s skin
And takes a peek at what lies within
He says I’ve seen it and it ends not with a bang but a whimper
And his mother says, you rascal, you faggot you swine, you tinker
The bouncer on the door, more than just his pitbull face
He’s observed and critiqued ideas of creed, purpose and race
Melinda takes drugs for the angst of being alive
Drugs to broaden the horizons of her mind
Her baby’s weight, more story than flesh
She drags upon her post-birth cigarette
Because there’s no room for nuance when you’re pressed against the wall
Why listen and change when there’s no point at all
Such as Gordon, who tries to be a moral man,
But old blind Bill led him by the hand,
He said take a look down yonder at the foundation of sand
That lays at the church’s foundations
And concede that God has left an emancipated nation
I’d love to contemplate it all, but I don’t have the patience
Atlas Stood 