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Where the Horses Won’t Go

They say there’s a wave that’s coming someday to send all the Ferris wheels washing away.

The seashells succumb to a watery grave in the sands of the sunken empire.

You’ve heard of a flame that’s rising around to burn all the brothels of Babylon down.

Collapsing the kingdoms and twisting the towns into playgrounds of children on fire.

And we’re just walking on by preoccupied with the fairy tale life that saps the last breath from the lungs of the lonely;

Lifts up the desperate then tears them down slowly.

Blessed are the blasphemous; blind are the holy who’s altars will alter the tribes as they’re walking on by.

There’s talk of a storm that’s brewing on high. It won’t leave a rainbow it won’t leave a sky;

just mannequins frozen with fear in their eyes where the shadows evade the sundials.

You’re taking a pill that’s keeping you ill while puppeteers tell you it’s making you well.

When Munchausen syndrome hits biblical scales and the snakes in the cradle all smile.

But we’re just walking on by lost on the wind as the hurricane cries. The song of the wrecking ball sings in the distance.

Crumbling hope in the face of resistance; filling the void with the ghost of existence when everything clear disappears as we’re walking on by.

Oh, where have all the angels gone they know not where they roam?

They’ve choked on all the breadcrumbs and erased the trail back home.

There’re bruises on the fruit again; the lights have lost their glow.

The rats are in the cornfield where we all reap what we sow.

They’ve planted a plague that grows from a seed in the unguarded garden the gardeners asleep.

They’ll spread the disease through the birds and the bees to the innocent standing on trial.

So line up the casualties all in a row and carry them down where the horses won’t go.

We’ll scatter the ashes with silver and gold while the wolves of redemption run wild.

When no one’s walking on by you’ll pay the piper for paying no mind. So turn every time bomb into an alarm clock.

Blend all the colors like feathers on peacocks. Build up the bridges around all the roadblocks and maybe we’ll meet on the way.

Someday when we’re walking on by.