I wrote this down today to bring to the band for a song we're working on...
It was inspired by observing ourselves descending vicariously.
Maybe we're the monsters then
Perpetual stories of Brothers Grimm
Dead men shift their bones and yell
Welcome to eternal hell
The ocean cries from darkened skies
I sit here and wonder why
Like factories of the Industrial Age
Putting children in the same old cage
Our children are canaries then
We sacrifice them for our sins
Our children are canaries then
We'll bury them for our sins
So maybe I'm the monster then
Wring my hands and sit and spin
__________________ Time is still the infinite jest.
I'm starting to feel that the descension is inevitable, part of the cycle. Unstoppable momentum maybe.
unless there's radical change. . . which is possible.
Maybe we are the monsters. . . .
But when working at Monsters Inc. is the only profitable job option, can we blame the little monsters for perpeturating production? Yea. . we are at fault for clocking in and turning the cogs. . . . but abandoning your post often means economic death.
I guess the best bet is to play the cogs, rise in the chain until you can afford leisure activity, then spend all extra time in efforts to subterfuge the system. And train the canaries to recognize the cage. . .
either way. Thanks gonz, i enjoyed writing it, just trying to envision or imagine the silver lining that accompanies a possibly very treacherous divergence in my future. . . essentially. . given the possibility I might choose the low-road, just to sight see.
Ha. That's how it started, the writing. That abandoning our post means economic death.
I had lines like; eyes shut, mouths open, we swallow the poisons in, naive and quiet just like the ocean does. The ocean accepts all naively and quietly...
But I didn't think that they'd accept it as is. Canaries, and cages, and economic sustainability. So I've tried to find a middle road to get these thoughts across. So I took lines from different attempts.
I'm with you. I enjoy writing.
I enjoy the challenge on getting these thoughts across.
Carry on my friend.
__________________ Time is still the infinite jest.