Work

Shooting forward through the grease clouds
Up in the sky there is no network can with a man
Sitting hunched on a dark machine that
He is working with his starved hands above the land
He pushes quarters into slots and everytime
He puts one in a cigarrete falls into a black box
He doesn't get to keep the coins or the cigarretes but still
His comes in pains

And it is pulling me back
And it is pulling me back
To thinking I must conquer
This world with one hundred dollars
And every colored color
Is the color of pain

And I can't track my mood and burn my pain

I picked up the phone and heard a voice so far away
A woman from my past old and black
In southern tone she slowly asked me questions
And as I answered I could hear her nod in touch with god
She seemed to know me better than I knew myself
Cause when she asked me
How I spent my time these days
And I said music and she said yes I know cause that's your calling
You to play

And it is calling me back
And it is calling me back
To knowing the feeling
My work is in good keeping
And life is lucid dreaming
And it's ok

Cause I have come here with something to say