Like a gold bar at
The bottom of the ocean
I fight my every notion
To be a value they've ascribed
Vicariously.
They feel heat
When I am complete.
Thrown into blue
Flashing T.V. screens.
Brightly colored
And angry as true paranoia.
So many great ideas
Forgotten to the aether.
Such a small, unknowing teacher.
Like an unemployed creative
Confiding
In invisible directors.
These hands can only follow directions.
These words will only be delegated.
These waves will only be created
Out of nothing more than toying with the air.
credits
from Live at Blast House,
released April 2, 2020
Written and performed by Eric Doucette
Recorded and mixed by Landon Arkens, 3/14/2020 @ Blast House Studios, Madison, WI
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