A generous offer- but for who?
Is it for me, or is it for you?
“I’m sorry, I cannot go” should suffice
But what shall I saw when you ask me thrice?
You see, though we live side by side
You and I do not walk the same stride
I walk to my own self-satisfied beat
While you walk as you suck on your cult-like hive-minded teat
As you tell me why you’re right and I’m wrong
But it seems like you were wrong all along
Because you are not the rule-maker, decider or king
For maybe if you were, it might mean something
But since you’re not, when you speak, it is quiet
I don’t hear a thing, but keep talking- it’s a riot
To think that you’ll never truly know
What’s up above you or even down below
For there’s no room for your high-horse where I’m sure you’d like to be
And I’m sorry we won’t be in the same place for you to see
That the only “right” way is the one that’s truly your own
But maybe when I’m in Heaven, I’ll throw you a bone.