The Ceasing Now - Parts & Labor

Tacit acquiescence quaintly burns till we acquire

A pride in all the work we have not done

Begging retired accusations we sickly string ourselves along

Rightly fighting for a future free from formless ire

How the desperate long to be enthralled

We bite the mouths off our emotions

And light the days on fire

Choking under gathering smoke we crawl

Through the fetid on and onning

Drifting in a mire

It helps to feel those brighter days are gone

Savor the power of revision

The hurt returns a liar

Mindful of a tedium prolonged

Wistful with a withering tongue

Grown and wrong

Surviving the close calls

While we’re always revising our roles

Seizing the ceasing now

As our aims miss our goals

We size up our downfalls

While we undress the pessimist’s pose

Our tattered yes and nos

It only matters that we chose

As the surgeon’s scalpel’s dulling the patient should inquire

If this instrument is worth its salt

Still he insists on this incision

The situation’s dire

Slicing out the faults right from wrong

Is there a chance this cancer still belongs

Sponge the inhibition keeps the host feeling too strong

Grown and wrong

Surviving the close calls

While we’re always revising our roles

Seizing the ceasing now

As our aims miss our goals

We size up our downfalls

While we undress the pessimist’s pose

Our tattered yes and nos

What matters

We’re surviving the close calls

While we’re always revising our roles

Seizing the ceasing now

As our aims miss our goals

We size up our downfalls

While we undress the pessimist’s pose

Our tattered yes and nos

It only matters that we chose