Pangolin dreams

Staring through glasses with no lenses
At a tree climbing the sky.
Our father seems to have lost his senses
As he stands before our burning home

With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance
Evidence, if you will…
Gasoline dreams from a wishing well.

I was so young we were so innocent at a time when innocence made sense.
The flames laughed at us as I held you in my arms.
Youth would not be wasted on us we both have come so far.

What have I become? How could this have happened?
I was so careful, I wore the garbs of a saint with stained-glass cufflinks.
I'd forgotten what I was looking for.
Power is flowing but the bulb is blown,
I have no faith to call my own.

With an olive branch in one hand, the other holding circumstance
Evidence, if you will…
Gasoline dreams from a wishing well.
As I stumble onto broken knees, screaming at broken sleeping ghosts
On a hill with three trees…
The royalty is coming for my loyalty.

Even Carpenters make mistakes, measure once cut twice.
I am so very apathetic.

You abandon me.

Cradled in my mother's arms, my reserves have been set free.