On winning, a curse on me & watchin' Your six

All the cash in the world won't help you when you gotta go
It's all a matter of knowing that you're sleeping and dreaming
All of this from birth to death, pain and suffering, bad juju
From unknown strangers in cyberspace to wives and husbands too.

OK, so now you recollect that you're asleep in this dream of life
But you cannot wake up without ending this dream called living
That means die and you can wake up or continue dreaming a sky
There's nothing above and nothing below us, spirits fly.

I want you to curse me and see what happens, moon eclipses
Where teeny Dana resides on the darkside in black hole displays
Far from humans or druids and llamas seeking what Truth says
Nothing, silence, buzz, ring, Word, chaos, elixir, philosophizes.

Watchin' my six 'cause there's noone else to cover my hindsight
All alone, in the middle of an incomprehensible insight
Telling noone anything about it, it's a nowhere man, Mr. Lonely bit
Change the variable into the constant, perpetual epileptic fit.

Get out of here you nut, you're crazy out of your mind, insane
Pickin' up the crumbs and pieces of lead, gathered in a cauldron
Boiling water from the Dead Sea to make invisible porridge rain
Curse on me, drink up, here's a toast, heart's all broken but I won.

by
RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN
c. Friday the 13th of March 2015 @ 7:11 PM
( written while listenin' to Donny Hathaway "LIVE 1972" hits @ https://youtu.be/REmxjpNLMz4?list=RDREmxjpNLMz4 )