Old folk once told me
Where to live
What to think
And the value I should wear.
Now young folk think they own me
Tell me what to color
Hues in my mind
Fleeting gods in quiet
Ideas fade to grey.
Rich folk tell me stories
Keep me glued
To the work
Hammering nails folk branded hope.
And Poor folk follow hungering
Chasing whistles blowing
From them fantasy trains
Just dogs barking as
Limited express goes by.
Media folk they write
Share the global blues
Not so happy news
And say they’re not to blame.
The simple folk keep buying
A quarter to a dime
Stories made for them
Geometric shapes
Bias along parallel lines.
Legal folk make rules
Protecting us they say –
Them, I think is true
Their truth in suits reveal.
WEIRD country folk whistle
Daisies in the wind
Petals drifting aimless
To blue sky dreaming
Clouds with silver linings.
Folk like me are folks
Toys for them folks
The folks that think
They are the only Folks.
Old folks keep on coloring
Poor folk keep on chasing
Simple folk to listening
And WEIRD folk to consuming
Dreams by Folks that made them…
…folks.
Folks keep dreaming.
Folks keep living.
Folks keep drifting.
Folks keep chasing.
Folks.
Lyrics by Maru-chan