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these days

from a poem, a gun by barely free

/

lyrics

these days are not a game:
be pirates to private interests,
defy investors of the private sector
and, oh yeah: lie to detectives,
build survival kits
inspect it for
a knife, an axe, a pick,
a wick, some steel wool,
a nine-volt,
hand-wind radio,
a net
a sleeping bag and and rain slick,

start a fire, stay warm,
say a prayer,
take form
take flight
take a bike or boat and
just go,

just go,
not a game,
be the wind,
pave the way
for the leaves
be the roots
of the trees,
listen closely behind
the thththe shadows
of your mind,
of your ind, of your mimimmmmmmind,

the time illusion
primed for
a prism
unwind,
be the seeker
be the vision
be the vivid astral
images
be divine survival primitives
but most of all
be well, be well

no nnno no global power gimmicks,
or cabals all thirteen houses iS
represented,
and don’t resent the scent
which is proven to replenish,
no don't resent the scent which is proven to replenish,
think about it:


these days seem like the same lame relays
“just a game,”
“just a game”
we say
we say, “its a just a game,”
just a game these days,
from yesterday
into the decades
"just a game,"
these days these days iS just days
just days, just days these days are just the same
just the same just the same lame relays or it's
“just a game” just a game we say
we say “it’s just a game”
we say its just a game these days?
we say, we say it’s a just a game
we say, we say...

credits

from a poem, a gun, released January 29, 2011
all words by rikshaw
all the beat by dj deep breathely

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barely free St Louis, Missouri

collective of musicians based in St. Louis, MO.
email us at burningthecassette@gmail.com
for booking, interviews and release info.

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