
Smoke from a Golden Calf
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Voice Only
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Music Only
Lyrics
Uhm. Uhm. Every uncertainty.
Uhm. Oh. It is this stepping off
from birth into uncertainty and certainty.
We know the moments of our wealth and
undivine poverty, those strokes
from the whip of a god
that would not be a Golden Calf,
a steak on the grill of golden smoke
curling higher into the beckoning stars.
That infinity of paperwork which brings us
from end to end, from open eyes
reading between the lines
of a birth certificate.
Mommy and daddy
reel you in on the fish hooks of their passion,
their boredom, their means of communication.
Severed from the umbilical and cast
into chance, into,
putting on the best face,
opportunity, that disguise for good living.
Mud hut, palace, tract house, apartment,
pent house, prison, cardboard box, log cabin.
That shell game for bodies,
for substance of flesh.
Stereo system. Rheostat. Garbage disposal.
Electricity. Candle light. Kerosene.
Moon strong, full, so bright.
The different spinning of the planets.
On this one we have not yet wiped
the war paint from our faces.
We still bleed for nothing or everything,
balancing ignorance and understanding
like jugglers standing in the middle
of piles of broken dishes,
spent ammunition, the threat of annihilation.
One of seven billion, all contained
in a blink of humanity,
a single eye looking into space
and in the totality of which we recognize
a fraction.