Better dead than well read

Wherever the horns are calling you home to
trust me
the melody is better from afar

trust the instruments

wherever they may lead you

Go trot the whole wide world
these truths will still be there to meet you

You can't bring anything home

every bags a burden

you carry everything

for those whose arms you run to

whose truth is a mystery to you

the tinkling horns will clang at the closest

sign that you're alive

Go be undiscoverable on any street in the world

on any country road

it's better odds to plant in somewhere

where you're indistinguishable

than to be the prized carrot

in a clay pot

You'll hear it said

time & time again

The truth of all of everything is complete

in every thing you can find

Don't listen to the drums

Don't listen to the horns

Run the other way

Pursue the absence of any semblence of their sound

Seek a holy ignorance

Find a little peace there

and remember everything I've said

It's been a choice all along

to just let love go

everywhere

It's been a choice all along

to hang on to remorse

& lie to yourself & everybody else

that every time you've died

was a fake.