Little Lives, Little Days

from by Angry Little Gods



There are bees, in the garden,
Hives of angry little gods - think on that,
They live little lives in little days,
Toiling three square meals away,
Only to make us all a tasty snack,

There are roaches, in the sewer,
Swarms of hungry little plebs - watch em breed,
They are members of the ninety nine,
Reviled by all of humankind,
Bound to outlive all races and all creeds,

There are beasts, called homo sapiens,
All shapes and sizes they come in - to be sure,
And so to classify their phobias,
They invent all kinds of slights and slurs,
And live out their lonely lives locked up indoors,

Hard as it is, to draw a line,
Under what exactly is divine,
On this earth we share there is eternal truth,
That truth was told by just a man,
On a stage in front of a big band,
Who played as he sang of a joyous youth,

Whoa o, Whoa o,
Babies crying in_the dark sacred night,
Whoa-o, whoa-o,'
Roses blooming under clouds of white,

There's a book, that's known to many,
From its pages many lessons have been learned,
But the fact is, folks - those pages wrought,
Destruction, death and pain untold,
Not much value from that can be discerned,

And our differences, well there are plenty,
But our similarities are more than few,
For the longest time we killed and fought,
Thinking nothing of the pain we brought,
To the people that we are and that we knew,

There are beers, in the Eski,
And there's music. playing. on. the-radio,
So-let-us indulge, inexcess-and vice ,
Don't-you-dare-to, think-you'll-live-twice,
Find some solace in the answers we all know,


from Live Your Lives & Drink Your Beers, released April 26, 2014
Written by Tom Sanderson, 2013



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