and, but, why

my phone number is an unimportant prime

and

my media access control is beyond a computer deciphered pi

way far out there, beyond any reasonable slick smiled lie

so i quietly listen when my sweat wanders near my eye

i am aware though i know i am not fully awake nor contrite

i know that the government tries to control loose minds

but

i admit that i don't understand nor comprehend fight or flight

it may just not be i - or me - or this skin bag of water that cries
why

my cassette tape is brittle and running dry

while those antiquated dirty heads no longer feign an ocean salty smile

and

while i listen slumped by hidden pain to avoid any personal strife

i dream any dream that doesn't lay by my side

but

i love that my crazy deceptive dog wags its body wild

i dig everything along with everybody under every sky

inherently clinging to their fragile fleeting soon to be forgotten lives

it may just not be i - or me - or this soul that cannot defy

why

... .thurlo.