The future seems to follow us into the distant past
We try to hide from instances that plague us to the last
Gag the sirens thouroughly, but tie me to the mast
Let creeping chaos break the bonds, although they are tied fast
Sitting silent on the porch the doorstep of a heart
The entrance to a warm safe place, where something new can start
Put the pieces back again climb on the apple cart
Pick up sticks and lock a key then watch it fall apart
Whipped and dragged through streets of glass and scenes of ancient lust
The cities slowly reach the sky, then quickly start to rust
Recaptured glories shine again through centuries of dust
We rail against all certainty, the fates to which we’re thrust
And here we come around again, again again again
Never that much different, but never quite the same
I stand in stoic fury hold my hand against the flame
And dream a tiny action may commit some epic change