SPINNING

My world is spinning again like a boardwalk merry-go-round; there is no single person to make a sound, but who in the hell is it looking inside and outside the store windows looking to buy my soul? There is a reflection in the mirror, which is not mine this time. What did that snake oil man sell me before I left, hoping I would forget all their secrets? I told that son of bitch. I'm not looking back; I am just a number with no regrets.

I am constantly spinning around to find the devil's weight riding my shirt tails because god told him that I wasn't for real and he just had to see me for himself, three legends and myths shutting the shit, writing the good books to put on the shelves.

I have been spinning and sitting still in the desert and the sea. They can follow me for them now that I have a soul of both a saint and sinner, a loser and winner and now that I have found a glitter of freedom in my eye, I
refuse to quit even when I may need to admit defeat

They keep pushing and pulling i keep standing still and spinning by the mountainside while they try to come up with another albi you laugh but the god and the devil still and always will ride side by side and that just leaves my mind continuously spinning as their train goes by