Birds Eye View

Birds Eye View
by MrDaMan & PreMedia
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)
Luis Medina

Spread your wings and fly,
You/Let’s dare to fire/reach the sky,
Your/Our choice predator or prey,
you’ll/we’ll not be the victim today.

Higghhhhh
Way up high you fly…
Spiraling in the sky,
it ain’t what you know,
it’s what you don’t that fires the soul.
Round and round you fly,
your hunger a pressing why,
I can feel for you,
but can’t make you think.
And you don’t have to try
Just Fly………………..

We’re angels with ruffled feathers,
ground bound and looking at you
We’re straining against the devils tethers,
Caged/Lost souls giving God his due,
Raging spirits of all kinds of weathers,
Free of mind but wishing we knew…

Imaginations of unlimited pleasures,
tied to the pain of reality’s brew,
Drunken on the illusion of chaos/madness and sanity
A birds eye view will just have to do.

Birds Eye View

Living After While

Living After While
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Wistful winds play with the scent of summer,
honeysuckle and bees, beer and a buzz,
baseball, TV… and children in the yard.
minutes passing by one second at time,
slow motion living thick and rich
Breath in breath out ain’t this what it’s about?

Granpa’s napping on the porch,
and grandma’s in the kitchen mak’n apple pie,
Little Billy wheelies his bicycle, you can smell the Earth as he pass’s by.
Little Sally’s blowing daffodils at firefies brightening the dusk with her smile. Breath in, breath out…
This is what you call living afterwhile.

Ummmm you can feel the forgetful breeze of yesterday’s sorrows.
This ain’t no time to think about the struggles of everydays tomorrows.
I look again one more time into her eyes, and find the love of deep blue sky. Breath in breath out, ain’t this what it’s all about?

Granpa’s napping on the porch,
and grandma’s in the kitchen mak’n apple pie,
Little Billy wheelies his bicycle, you can smell the Earth as he pass’s by.
Little Sally’s blowing daffodils at firefies brightening the dusk with her smile. Breath in, breath out…
This is what you call living afterwhile.

Playing With Fire

Playing With Fire
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Yeah one good ‘ole boy with a foot in the grave,
tied to heavens hell as a mortal slave,
A sin city sinner one more soul depraved
Awaiting Saint Peter for the final grade.

Back up Saint Peter
my souls against the wall,
send me to hell,
I’m ready for the fall.

Tell the devil I’m comin and I’m wrapped in barbed wire,
my spirit’s restless and likes playin with fire.

My jaw ain’t just jack’n, I aim on attack’n
these bones may be old and brittle and crack’n
but if hell’s got gin I don’t intend to be slack’n

Lucy will probably give me one hell of a beating,
but I’ve had worse than that at a revival meeting.
The preachers there told me my prospects were fleet’n
But the Lord knows I refuse to be beaten

Come on devil,
I’m on the level,
heaven’s too dull,
I’m here to gnaw on yur skull,
I’m gonna revel in the pleasure of your pain,
I’ve been alive, I’ve been insane,
yeah I know you devil… we are the same.

Enter at Your Own Risk

Enter at Your Own Risk
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Enter at your own risk,
the boots of your brothers will trample you the way.
Someone’s guilty of your forced entry into this world.
You came screaming from the vaginal cage,
covered in blood and looking for a fight.

You spin on a blue ball, that spins on a yellow ball,
that spins on a black hole that spins on a center of a beginning far, far away.

We trespass on balance, tipping on edges of gravity caressing gentle
brute force inventing reality from imagination.
We are something from nothing, the footprints of primordial ooze
making rules with anarchy’s boots. Filling chaos with dreams.

Passion and pain finding pleasure in the shadows of light,
what meaning there is, divine impressions of sanity,
elusive wings of empathy swim in oceans of cold black,
enlightening the way with beams of thought unfocused,
making something out of nothing.


Enter at Your Own Risk