i sit in my expensive bastion
and i stare at my little corner of sky
i ask myself why
only to be answered by these
illusions made by my malady
they torture me tragically
sanity sporadically
myblueskye
oh myblueskyeinny
that silver lining
that ray of hope
when you are down to your last
and out of dope...
that's why they call it...
dope
i remember seeing you in all your glory
you were so dope!
when you weren't on that
dope
i know! i know! You used it to cope!
some people pull on it like a rope...
they swear it's the only way they
can make the magik happen
i only saw sadness sapping
all the life out of their veins
thank God my prayers did not go in vain
I guess I could use a weather-vane
some sort of contraption
to indicate my moods and reactions
help me to get some sort of satisfaction
having gone through all my retractions
my omits and what i did and did not commit
who i hurt and chose to hit
all my sins and grievances
& my favorite orbits
and yet still it is here that i sit
at least it's a nice chair from which I posit
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