The Sleep of Reason

I was born on a Saturday night
Somewhere between the seconds really
I couldnt give you a time but it sure was late

I'd love to make you nervous, but I'm really in the band
I'd love to mislead you, but I'm only busy with my hand

I got the whole canary yellow jacket hand me down
But I don't need to be an old man afraid of crowns
A push into the darkness, I have a little light
I sing into the morning, I cultivate my sight

I was born again in the place between dreams
I guess I just lay there and found an old religion
I can't really talk about it but it's love
Ever met someone who could give you directions?
Death is where we're headed

We're almost in the soup you know, the melting pot's aboil
We lance our hearts with moral spears, a little mortal toil
Did Shakespeare shuffle off to wind his backwards clock again?
Turn the keys and you will oddly be
a little looser in your coil my friend

Free my opinion of you I'm sorry that I had it
Let me see the person that I may have once ignored
Listen to my rhetoric thus neatly timed - imperfect rhymed
Then send me a singing telegram if you find that you're still bored

I now teach by example and you've forced me to this throne
Perhaps this will explain to you why I rarely answer phones
I am the courtier of a goddess, I have never lost this cause
If you think I'll chase the flesh around, then an empathetic pause

I'll be the last one waiting if it's Thanksgiving when you call
I'll be the first dead pumpkin pie at Cinderella's ball
I've stepped into the wilderness, I've steeped this crazy tea
Now give me a burning bush damn soon, this to help me see