Melodic Irony

As I continue to fumble along in my archive chest; I have always wondered whether the 'words' be intelligent or rather pure emotion. In this quest, I have jumped from rainbow to concrete perhaps straying on the concrete side a tad more than necessary. Nonetheless, what I bring here is something I like to think that was born in transit.

This piece "Melodic Irony" could best be experienced to imagine a brooding figure towering over a pint-sized piano poking clumsily at the keys rather to his great delight (for those of you who have difficulty in potraying this image, take 'Schroeder' from the cartoon strip " Peanuts" who has a fondness for the piano, all due apologies Mr. Schulz).. surrounded by a women dressed in black and veils across their faces in a room, gaily chatting away as they sip tea off their bottom-less cups. I think this best explains the flow of the following piece, what it lacks in creativity it makes up (i hope) in the environment created. and the piano man continues....

Shooting star or One hit wonder,
Come again, what you are…
Fancy suits of dirty money
Look around, its just baloney

Man on moon and God on slippers,
Is Bush our very own Jack the Ripper?
My my my, I like you all, but I aint gonna be the one to fall…
Speak of WMD’s, last I heard Hate killed ‘em all…

Sunlit cloudy day, perfect for a swim
All I see are rivers of blood, Oh so very grim.
Do we laugh as loud and as often?
Are the hugs preludes to a coffin…

A touch is met with such suspicion
A whisper can ground planes, not worth a mention.
Is that facial hair? Follow me “sir!!!"
Could be the president or a mothball Fakir.

Hell!! Fly me off to the place I adore,
Hey Mr. Pilot!!!! Whoever said El Salvador?!?!