Saturday, January 31, 2009

All Remains Illuminated

Life is a French movie scene
With characters skipping down the street
Passing pastry shop after pastry shop
And whistling to their own beat

There are no caricatures
There are no addictions to artifice
There are no hypocrites lying on the street
Yelling all our sins into the concrete

Even with an explosion on the set nearby
And as the ending credits descend from the sky
As the undertones of horror make all of us cry
All remains illuminated

Life is a vintage record store
That stretches past the horizon
Curious minds introduced to rapture
As the first notes begin rising

Although the wearing of the discs may show
A scratch in each song's strand
The music still plays as clearly
As diamond dust on dry land

Even with the CD skipping now
And you wanna be a star, but you don't know how
Even as Rolling Stone destroys your sound
All remains illuminated

Even with America straddling on all fours
Even as fire ants invade your shoes' holes
Even as life takes a toll on your lightweight soul
All remains illuminated
All remains illuminated
All remains illuminated NOW.

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