The Jester’s Weather

Tell me, have you ever
put some thought into the weather,
What’s between you and far away?

Have you ever seen the masses,
And imagined all the caskets,
As they’re buried in the pouring rain?

To me these things are vivid,
My blood boils and I’m livid
At the thought that there is something else
I am ignoring as it’s pouring
‘Cause I am sitting and adoring
A photograph of someone else.

The sound of wedding bells,
Blend the ringing of the knells,
And remind me that I have to act.

If I cannot pull the trigger,
Well, these clouds are getting bigger
And the Sun is never coming back.

And so I
Write another poem,
I write another song,
And I do it every single day.
I’m writing and I’m hoping
That my stupid little poem
Is gonna make anything change
And if it really doesn’t,
I suppose that I should love it
As a memory of who I am.
So excuse me for not proving
I won’t justify my doing,
If you don’t like it,
Well, that’s just too bad.

If you can fake it ’til you make it,
Then I guess you’re meant to take it,
For not being true to who you are.

If you can’t see it, I can’t be it,
I am not equipped to free it
I just cannot bend or break these bars.

And even if there’s something
I can say or do to bust them,
How much effort can really I bear?
And at some point I have to question
If I’m rotten in intention,
And If I am, do I really care?

The clouds are getting darker,
And the Sun is getting starker,
I can tell a storm is on its way.

And I could get defensive,
I could cry or just be pensive,
But that isn’t gonna save the day.

And so I
Write another poem,
I write another song,
And I do it every single day.
I’m writing and I’m hoping
That my stupid little poem
Is gonna make anything change
And if it really doesn’t,
I suppose that I should love it
As a memory of who I am.
So excuse me for not proving
I won’t justify my doing,
If you don’t like it,
Well, that’s just too bad.

So, say did you remember,
That you had to check the weather?
‘Cause our time here is nearly up.

If you end up rusted, battered, broken,
‘Cause you didn’t bring a coat then,
Do you keep going? Do you just give up?

As the darkness and the voices
Start to criticize our choices,
We reflect upon the very fact
That this deathbed on which we’re resting
Comes from how we made investments.
Tell me then, are you okay with that?

The orange of the twilight
Marks the draining of the skylight
That once shone and gave us so much life.

With the dark upon the jester,
These last words, I let them fester,
As we close our eyes and say goodnight.

And so I
Write another poem,
I write another song,
And I do it every single day.
I’m writing and I’m hoping
That my stupid little poem
Is gonna make anything change
And if it really doesn’t,
I suppose that I should love it
As a memory of who I am.
So excuse me for not proving
I won’t justify my doing,
If you don’t like it,
Well, that’s just too bad.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: