Put your hands up to the sky...
Wave them digits high.
All the fans of the American Pie...
Lucky there's a family guy.
As the days and weeks go by...
These years have gone awry.
Why do people have to die...
Ask the all seeing eye.

I'm feeling less inclined to be more kind.
Time to smash the world clock and stop time.
Rhyme after rhyme, you can't stop my mind.
You should always spring forward when you're
falling behind.

I'm like a fine wine. A devine place to dine.
Where is my six, I'm the lucky number nine.
If you see my get excited, take it as a sign.
I think we need a quite place to help me
unwind.

My place or yours! Hey! Where'd you
park your car.
If you're on all fours you could get stuck
in the tar.
You should take a little time to wish on
a star.
You never know when ya gotta go,
so keep the plan on par.

You should have known you wouldn't
have to look far.
Sometimes you'll find me drinking but
I'm never at the bar.
This has got me thinking 'bout my dreams
in a jar.
They seem so bizarre. I watched God play
guitar.

From planet Mars we're all just ants.
And that's where angels like to dance.

Put your hands up. Touch the sky.
Wave them clouds goodbye.
Some rock bands drink whiskey and rye,
Canucks drink Canada Dry.
Feet all wet from tears you cry.
Cant afford an alibi.
Don't practice deception, you won't
have to lie...
Veterans never ask why.

The ceiling is more than less mine, but
it's a floor by design.
I was put on ignore by a mime in charge
of the telephone line.
I've defined the sign time after time, just
to watch it all unwind.
What you bring to the party hardly compares
to grapes that are fresh off the vine.

Look and you'll find. We all have a shine.
Here is your fix but it smells like turpentine.
Everyone's invited but bring your own stein.
That look on you is quite the taste,
black lace on my mind.

My face or yours baby! Watch the syrup
pour.
You put me in my place baby, now I'm
too damn sore.
This kind of lovin's got me quakin',
shakin' to the core.
There's just no way to ever fake it,
always wanting more.

I should have known, because you fukk
like a porn star.
Nevermind the fact you seem more
shy than you really are.
You've got me sinking in the pink and
reaching so far.
Raising the bar. They can hear you scream
from afar.

But from Planet Mars, We're all just ants.
That's where angels like to dance.

Written by: Michael W. Taylor
March 18th 2023©
© Michael W. Taylor