Our father

Which art on Wall Street

Honored be thy buck

Thy kingdom came

This be thy year

From sea to shining sea



Thou givest me false pride

Funked down by the riverside

From every head and ass, may dollars flow

Give us this pay

Our daily bread

Forgive us our goofs

As we rob from each other



He maketh me to sell dope to small children

For thou art evil

And we adore thee

Thy destruction and thy power

They comfort me

My Cadillac and my pinky ring

They restoreth me in thee

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of poverty

I must feel their envy

For I am loaded, high and all those other goodies

That go along with the good god big buck



To your horse

A ? grows there

Ahead in time, the unexpected soul-searching beam of the strobe

But now, the stairway looms

And as I rise

The cries of kittens, gray, make way

For there, now near

Here now, gone, alone

I feel my wrist, it flicks the switch

No lights reveal the room or me

She sees, then panics, grabs a light

I scream, silent comforts that are not heard

I panic, for I have not said a word

Hysteria hold the room in sway

I run, I back away, to hide

From what?

From fear?

The truth, the light?

Is truth the light?