you take off your clothes. you’ve got nothing to hide. you don’t have to listen. or bring a disguise. and still you’re not happy with what you get. always adjusting your tv set. you’re helpless anger at domestic burdens. let’s switch it on and see what’s working. it’s the best you can manage. don’t ask about the collateral damage. loving coca cola and death. always thinking about sex. not thinking about what comes next. the fascist clashes. the news rehashes. the revolution has left the building. and by the time you tweaked. the good times had peaked. and left a funny stain on the ceiling. and all the cranky left wing bastards. gurus and low-carb fasters. get crushed in the exodus. of evangelists and methodists. and you just take off your clothes. and walk around naked. you’re so free. and i’m so jealous. bad poets. mystics. and mental gymnastics. can’t save you now. the question is not why. but how. for the rest look to science. and some ungodly alliance. of alchemist and asshole. don’t waste your pity. i’ll take my chances with serendipity. the least likely thing will do. kings who have died once bitten by monkeys. queens who’ve retired with nameless junkies. passion blind and unerring. lines and edges blurring. thoughts of seduction. it's just my curiosity. won't you let me to see. and once again you get caught napping. then just act like nothing’s happening. not knowing what was meant. you do ignorance so well. in silence. half baked excuses. the threat of violence. jumping to conclusions. you grab the wrong end of the stick. just one more kick. sorry to rave, but - don’t you just hate the gurus of inner growth. and all the expensive shit they promote. i don’t buy their line. and every day there's another hundred self-help authors. is there anything they haven't taught us. they need me more than i need them. it's true. who needs someone telling you what to do.