I say therefore my philosophy is complete
And if you might call this swagger
Do not confuse my dagger wit
With absolution left or right of it
The core I seek is the man, the soul
Its gravity's center, be that empty space
Between action's quarks and knowlege's bosons
Its motion compels my own
Though I unswayed drone on in prickly bursts
Ever more in passion even more in verse
I tire of the face of fame
And didactic attribution's curse
The vulgar charge hypocrisy's the same
A game of goodnight nurse
I'd rather fake my way rebounding
In salons of dubious repute
Than knit my brown brow
Over Mars' eye's commanding
Vaingloriously outstanding
Amid the mire and muck
Pretending that I give a fuck
To hell with nasty neighbors' blues
I won't watch the Six OClock News
I have no lawn to shoo your brats away
No break of dawn to signal end of play
No rims nor Brims nor bling for you to covet
You'll never spy me out and God I love it
I'm just a wayfaring stranger
Head in book
With boots on.
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