Poor kid don't know
Look at him, you can tell by his face
He's totally clueless
The way he rambles and ambles
Idolizes and symbolizes
Blind and deaf and dumb
Repeats and imitates the movement, the cadence, the rhythm of his speech
Ignorant and in the dark, his own personal comfortable dark
Who'll be the first to tell him
That every totem in his mind is cursed
That every soul born from that seed will forever be stained
That their father left blindly into the wind into the dark brown sea
And would gladly die there in his stupor if it meant one last slight at all those he left in his massive wake
His pure burning clawing wisdom drowned and exposed there on the shore
Writhing and hemorrhaging
At least he's not a hippie