Fire Escape Manifesto

Tulips in my ear
I’ve got a manifesto
For you to hear

Used to be everyone had one
Now there’s no-one

Well…

It’s like this, Buddy
If you want to live an authentic life
Free from the trappings of verse & death
You have to escape from the Babylon tower
And start looking after your health
Not your wealth
Your health is your wealth
Hey
Your health is your wealth

Is anybody listening?
And would I stop if there weren’t?

It’s like this, Chief
When you want to live like there’s no tomorrow
Void yourself of even YourSelf
And be ye’ not ashamed
Start looking at dawns and sunsets
Cash in the old bets
Your dreams are when you’re most alive
Hey
Your dreams are your life in flames

But the flames are bluewhite roses
Frosty, hot and game
Lovers
Your dreams want to make love to you
And so loving, they want to make you
Finally more than you
For you are truly more than you

Do we have your attention?

It’s like this, Lover
This fire escape isn’t my property
Neither belongs it to those inside
They are renters
They just reside

It’s like this, Killer
This guy below is on the black market
And he happens to be black himself
What are the chances?

It’s like this, Settler
We all need a gun
Bullets we can get anywhere
We just need a gun
Something we can shoot off
Like words
Quick, and good fun

To send a message
To be an army
To shoot the moon and sun
Impregnating the former
and answering to no-one

It’s like this
I was accused of manslaughter
Of killing my own daughter
But it wasn’t true
No
It was the Rebel Bone
that had that done

And still she’s gone
Lost
But I’m going to find her
And with her
Anew become

It’s like this, Ranger
The City is all towers
Unsightly, ghastly, long
Streets in rows
None of it owned
By anyone you know

It’s like this, Cowboy
The Forest is all lies
Long lines, craggy manifestations
Fractal pines
None of it owned
By anyone you know

It’s like this, Captain
There’s nowhere to run anymore
Not when you want to live an authentic life
There’s no revolution anymore, nor
Neither rebellion’s chicken bone
Stuck in the throat of authority – no
It’s all fashion
And fashion is a cruel sadness
Yes
But the revolution needs it

Too bad they’re all frat boys now
Uptown, downtown, and all around
Golf and guns and golf and guns
Salute – hail
Too bad there are no men now

They’ve all slipped
And we are slipping

It’s like this, Brothers
You want to feel more alive
Than you do now
So where do you begin?
It’s sure as hell not
By slipping

It’s like this, Sisters
You want to feel the surge
of dark power
So where do you begin?
It’s sure as hell not by
Slipping

So stop
Slipping, right?

There’s always a gas station to hit,
Holy, well lit
Open
24 / 7
Each and every night

Gas is not life
But it sure makes a good
surrogate

There’s always a fire escape
Somewhere
There’s always an exit nearby
There’s always an exit (( in sight ))

Read the Lyric from the Beginning