Raise an army of lovers not heroes
march to a siege on Babylon
deep as I walk this old dust road
it shines but won’t show my gun

sometime ago I met myself
as I ran from one game to another
I knew I had eaten the lotus
and been a stranger to my brother

Conjuring in the temple of wonder
getting lust in the motes and dust
the moon and stars stand side by side
stemming the sea of doubt with trust

The farmer tills and sows his crop
and knows words lie or spin
dealing them a deadly blow
as he plants the seeds again

The coffee in the cup
the words on the slate
the ballad on the jukebox
the double in the mate
the story of the ghost
the glance of an eye
the movement of the body
as it’s gaiting toward the sky