Pick Your Battles

Good boy do what mama says
Bleed your blood until it’s red
Toss another dime in hat, colonize your bedroom map, keep your revolution eyes
wet
I am thoroughly impressed
Classy course catalog well read
Now you talk about the out and down, walk about with burning crown,
wonder why the kiddies don’t beg
And I know why your change is never coming
It feels fine to shame a setting sun
Now it’s high time, you leave your war alone
Better pick your battles
Now you preach on a pulpit built to last
With your gold collar covered up in rags
And you call yourself a weathervane, find a puddle call it rain,
pass them baskets fast
I’ve seen the hollow man
And I’ve been smitten selling stories of his hands
But bright lights spur submission, honeybee television, taste a little nectar
and you’re gone