They ask you on news of your soul
A most frivolous question
Give them reprieve from the truth
Thumbs up, all good mate
Now we can all go back to what’s important
Show your proof of the enlightened ape
To the sky
Without it you would be a lesser
Everything should wish they had one
Never-mind a pair, what a gift
An affirmation of good news
To a crowd expecting nothing less
And you receive your reciprocity
In good faith
How about you?
Not so bad, could be worse
Great, fine, good and well
Sincere as the weekly call to worship
And the the feeling of nothing lasts twice as long as you’d like
What is it you really want to say?
Maybe we’re a species just in love with facades
And the winner the one
With the most shit painted in gold
And we’re only supposed to bloom
Till we don’t
It doesn’t feel like it though does it
Something or all of it is yearning
To be realised or actualised
But till then, I guess
Thumbs up, all good mate