traffic control

 this is the master key to the great gate
we hold it close and know it keeps desire
as far from us as we would modulate
our patient thoughts so much is on the wire
that we would not expect you to enquire
about such matters we must deem absurd
you would take after your departed sire
we are the keepers of the truest word

we will erase and then rewrite the slate
as long as you sing gravely in the choir
in tones that cheer and do not sneer or grate
you'll find that we are conqueror and buyer
and that our hand is over you entire
all that you have we have indeed conferred
your very heart we know is out for hire
we are the keepers of the truest word

we are the masters of what you call fate
and will place you into the line of fire
for our good reasons and not out of hate
since all you have we easily acquire
we see you as just one suit of attire
or just another member of the herd
who cares how well you play upon the lyre
we are the keepers of the truest word

prince on such matters you are no denier
but keep your eye upon the noble bird
do not with any fools seek to conspire
we are the keepers of the truest word
 

moving through reality

 

before you can be clear out of the game
rules must be altered to reflect the fact
that justice is a matter not exact
since we define it as a changing flame
we do not ask you for a chance at fame
but to restore our hope and heart intact
that is our only treaty the last pact
we want to make in our most sacred name
those given meanings never seem to change
though we force all our anger into sight
as time itself becomes a petty toy
we make the world seem better and more strange
in our desire to hold back the long night
our greatest need the short moment of joy

second class people

 we are not asked to face a single test
but only once to go through one small gate
behind us every day they burn the nest

nobody knows the proper place of rest
we're always told that we arrive too late
we are not asked to face a single test

not one of us could claim to be the best
nor keep in these sad days a proper state
behind us every day they burn the nest

no one has told us why we are on quest
nor why we have been charged for all the freight
we are not asked to face a single test

we long each day to go back to the breast
not knowing the full reason for debate
behind us every day they burn the nest

so much of time has been wholly compressed
into the context of our human fate
we are not asked to face a single test
behind us every day they burn the nest