Entry Submitted by Heisenberg at 7:10 PM EDT on July 29, 2019
“It’s a pretty good zoo,” Said young Gerald McGrew.
“And the fellow who runs it
Seems proud of it too
But if I ran the zoo,”
Said young Gerald McGrew,
“I’d make a few changes…That’s just what I’d do
The lions and tigers and that kind of stuff
They have up here now are not quite good enough. You see things like these in any old zoo.
They’re awfully old-fashioned. I want something new!
So I’d open each cage, I’ll unlock every pen,
Let the animals go and start over again
And somehow or other I think I could find
Some beasts of some beasts of a more unusual kind – Dr Seuss
It's no secret that the stars are falling from the sky
The universe exploding 'cos-a one man's lie
Look I gotta go, yeah, I'm running outta change
There's a lot of things…if I could I'd rearrange – The Fly
And that brings us to tonight’s word: IF I RAN THE ZOO
Tell me what you see as you look down so high above from your UFO. Do you see a zoo like never seen befoe? A zoo worth crossing the stars for? A light speed, a vortex or a wormhole or three? Tell me, tell me true…what is it that you see? Is it easy to see who runs this very upside down zoo? Who bullies, threatens and blackmails their way through? Who suicides and who cuts the brakes of all those fish in all those lakes? Who lies and cons up and down shakedown street sacrificing children and cutting up meat? Who sabotages airplanes just for a thrill? Like notches on their belt…counting their kill? Who dumbs down the schools in Baltimore, so no black children get ahead? Who keeps the boogieman alive and younglings under their bed? Who poisons the water with fluoride to make everyone sick? To make everyone sick, just for a kick? Who is too greedy to share and hordes all the food? Till all the animals starve and whither to dust in the wind, dude? Who wants to create war while only others bleed? Who teaches that not love, but war is all you need? Who do you see running the zoo? Tell me please….and tell me true. I’m only a little fly on the wall, in your tv…in the hall. My little wings can’t fly that high. But still it’s nice to try. My little wings can’t fly as high as you, but I can’t stop thinking, who controls the poo. Who? Please, if you could do me a tiny favor…like you always do…tell this tiny fly who runs the zoo.
What if the bees ran the zoo? Would the bees find their way in to every college campus? Could the crazy bees who give out free literature samples of their bittersweet honey run it? The first one’s always free. Just a little taste. The bees who swarm on the drop of a social media dime? And disperse just as fast? Right before the cops get there. Funny how that works. The crazy bees who are always mad about somebody? Somebody white? Somebody fascist? Or anti-fascist? I’m getting confused. I thought fascists were supposed to be white. That’s racist. But I digress. The zoo doesn’t discriminate. Fascism can be black, brown, white, handicapable, red, yellow, gay or identify as the opposite sex. But who can tell? The bees wear many masks. Hard to tell who’s under those hoods these days. All it takes is a clever queen bee telling their subjects what to do. Where to go. Who to follow. How to mix cement milkshakes. The queen is hard to find, but the hive is not. Just look to your nearest overpriced higher educational institution. These hives are now the new indoctrination of chaos boot camps. And fact less knee jerk reactions are just 101 requirements. Bees don’t care about facts. Their anger comes from their gut. A feeliness. Truth from the gut. Facts can be manipulated. There are those who think with their head and those who know with their heart. But when that pretty bee tells me the only way to her heart is to bust a baseball bat upside Andy Ngo’s head…well that’s a truth from somewhere below the belt.
“Truthiness is the belief or assertion that a particular statement is true based on the intuition or perceptions of some individual or individuals, without regard to evidence, logic, intellectual examination, or facts. Truthiness can range from ignorant assertions of falsehoods to deliberate duplicity or propaganda intended to sway opinions. The concept of truthiness has emerged as a major subject of discussion surrounding U.S. politics during the 1990s and 2000s because of the perception among some observers of a rise in propaganda and a growing hostility toward factual reporting and fact-based discussion” Wikipedia
Unfortunately, the gut can be manipulated by emotion. Or money. Are the bee’s idealists or just paid mercenaries carrying out the queens agenda? Little from column A and a little from column B. See previous statement regarding impressing the opposite sex. Nothing new but worth noting.
Sorry I had a fight in the middle of your Black Panther party
Although it’s bit hard to blame the bee. Management of the zoo went to shit. Cut back on food. Nicotine poison. The sweet honey comb of life turned into a bitter matrix reality. Lack of good pollen. Someone’s to blame. No one knows who but the bee will find someone. White beekeeper was a good target for a lost bee. White bee keeper has all the good pollen. But don’t forget, the black flower was targeted as well. As the brown. That’s where the bee gets lots. Can’t see the big honeycomb. The bee has always been a pawn in their game and always will be just the same. No matter what color hood it’s wearing these days. No matter what their antifa flag says. Does the bee run the zoo? They do not. And wish not do you.
What if the wolves ran the zoo? Eating their young in spirit cooking stew? Would the wolves come out at night making the rounds to kick in the doors of all the other animals homes? Would no one be safe when the full moon comes out? Would mothers run for cover as night takes control of the day? Would they hide their children in the attic? Would they hide their neighbors’ children under the floorboards? Would they make the dolphin choose between neighbor and family?
You are sheltering enemies of the state are you not?
The wolves rule by absolute power absolutely. They are no stranger to death. The wolf does not use bats. They use false flags. They send direct messages through their suiciding. They blackmail the lions. Hit and run under disguise of a mask in the town square is not their play. They play a grander game of chess. High stakes poker. About 110 stories high. The wolf knows confidently it’s place in the hierarchy. The wolf knows Der Kommissar has his back at all times. Should we give the wolves a chance to shine and how? That depends….would you like the zoo to become another Dachau?
And the owl says hoot hoot. May I throw my hat in to run the zoo? The owl is wise beyond his years. He sees all. Especially in the black of night. He sees everything and holds onto it for future use. A no tell motel out on 55 secret street is not outside his reach. The owl listens to all. Data collection is the owl’s trade. Mountains of data. Everyone. Everywhere. Shame in the day. Shame in the night. Standard Hotel. Little St James. Bohemian grove. Adventureland. Magic Kingdom. The playboy mansion. Big brother is watching you. Can I get a hoot hoot? You’ll never walk alone. Or in privacy. And all the animals in the zoo have been so kind to the owl and made his job so much easier. Iphones! Get your iphones! Let me get this straight….2 cameras, a microphone and a GPS? You are too kind to the owl. No really….you’re too kind. Said the night wind to the little lamb…do you see what I see? Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy…do you hear what I hear? Do you know what I know? Well…the owl knows all the above…where you go…who you love.
The owl doesn’t talk much but when he does it’s a simple question…who? Who’s gonna step in it tonight? Who’s not going to be able to keep it in his pants? Who’s gonna give me free dirt? Who’s gonna tell his mistress company secrets tonight? Who’s gonna drink that roofie colada? Who’s gonna wake up with a dead hooker in his bed? Who’s gonna wake up with a live boy in his bed? That’s Hollywood.
You’d think this place was the garden of Eden, but there’s trouble in paradise
But don’t blame the owl. He’s just the court reporter entering all into record in the grand courtroom of the zoo. What would the sheep do all day without the juicy gossip he provides? He’s just the all seeing eye witness to the temptation and wickedness in the zoo. Every single shameful tidbit. For shame is a wonderful motivator. So is starvation. This blackmail thing really gets a bad rap. But the owl doesn’t lay the bait. The owl doesn’t drop the mickey. You can’t blame the owl who has no name. for the owl is just a pawn in their game. To answer your question Mr. Owl if you can run the zoo…I’m sorry you cannot. You cannot times two.
Don’t forget the hyenas. They would love to run the zoo. The 24 hour a day talking heads on channel 22. The unquietable hyenas cackling with the volume so high throughout every corner of the zoo. What’s a meek toothless crackhead sheep to do? All the night shift hyenas getting their pysop 4 am talking points ready for morning coffee. They come fast and hard. And the sheep without their espresso. Hardly seems fair. Surprise attack…killed em in their sleep that night. The hyena never runs alone. Always in packs. And they never pass the mic. They love the limelight where the lights are loud and bright. The makeup is thick. The smiles are big. Drama. Laughter. Anything to build trust. Anything to get the buffalo running off a cliff. Shall we give the hyenas a chance to run the zoos? No, sorry, Shenzi. Too many Geppetto handlers spinning up too much fake news.
And the pig 700 pounds who’s slow to move, says where my try? Can I run the zoo? Or am I destined to fry? I do my best to be honest with myself and with my source. I sleep where I take my shoes off because shit makes the softest bed of course. I am happy and content to root in shit. To eat shit. To lie in shit. But I do not lie about who I am…of that you can admit. No qualms about it. I am at peace in my shit. I am in Zen. Can you say the same for the snake in his pen? Maybe it’s best I don’t run the zoo if when I speak, all you see is my honey glazed rear end. But that’s too bad cause I have ideas and the animals suffering I could mend. Could you please grab me my grabbing stick before you leave? And I’m sorry but I think I got a little shit on your sleeve.
Pig…you know thyself and we all respect that to us, you always speak true. But as for running the zoo? That’ll do, pig….that’ll do….
That’ll do pig…
But what about me? Yoo hoo! I’m over here…who said that? It’s me…the black goo. Can I run the zoo? Oh black goo….I am not ready for this one bit. Shoo. We still trying to get the sheep used to the border wall. And Elijah Cummings, a man of color, not caring for color at all. Racist? And to be honest, we don’t know enough about your intentions, they may not be true. Please excuse me, but I’m only on X Files season 2. Maybe after season 7 when Mulder and Scully screw, you may be up for consideration of running the zoo. Don’t hold your breath. Boo hoo.
And what of I says the lizard? Can I run the zoo? uh no. Haven’t we tried this already?? A time or two? Next. This should be no surprise to you.
And what about the fox? In a box? With a mouse? In the white house? Can I run the zoo? I’m good at running. I’ve been running for years from you know who. And I’ve stayed out of the hunter’s pens. With the help of those in high places. With the help of my friends. So, can I run the zoo? Fox…it depends. You do move fast and of that we can see. But you don’t work well with others and that’s disappointing to me. But check back in a few years if we haven’t found the one. Check back with us if you can stop the run. If you ever learn to let others into your heart, instead of the life you lived, trusting no one. So no, Fox, you may not run the zoo. But you know what, little brother?....you just keep doing you.
And what of the gorillas and apes and orangutans? Slinging poo. Yanking their Yangs. Freedom dividend BOOM. They can make spears out of sticks. They can ride horses backs. And with their little thumbs, they can print fiat money and count up their fat stacks. They can wear cute little dresses and black and white tuxedos. Oh the champagne they’ll spill. Oh yes… the banking apes do well up on bankers hill. But it’s easy to do fair when your money is printed from thin air. And the rest of the zoo must eventually bow to you. For the chimps own all the cheese. All wars are chimpanzee wars. They’ll sell spears to both sides. Any way they roll the dice, guess who wins the prize? And guess who pays the price? Will the damn dirty apes run the zoo? All apologies Dr. Zaius. As a debt slave master in a debt slave zoo…no. It will not be you.
Baaaa. And what of us, ask the sheep? We are a kind ..*NO* Stop right there. You say you have an open mind but when logic speaks to you, knee jerk emotion is all you find. You listen too much to the hyenas and fail to think for yourself. And when truth finally does find you, it’s discarded easily on the shelf. You have a long way to go before even asking to run the zoo. But I get it, asking for things before you earn them is what sheep do. Maybe someday when you return with the humility of a Matthew 18 child, you still may not run the zoo, but heaven will be yours and you will make me smile.
What about you Mr. Fly? So quiet on the wall? No interest in running the zoo? Do you think you’re above it all?
You may keep your zoo keeper job, zookeeper. It looks like too hard of work
herding sheep to and fro on this earth
I’ll continue to fly here and there planting seeds of light in the sheep’s ears
It’s what I do…I’ve been doing it for years…
But call me if ever your guy doesn’t quite fit the bill
Call me…old Mr. Fly…that is if I’m flying still
You’ll find me dreaming on a barstool at some shit pub high upon that wall
Watching the zoo beneath me…. watching it all
I was always there. When the cops asked who dunnit?
I was there in Roswell and the social media summit
I was in Selma and when the Kennedys were shot
I was in area 51 when Eisenhauer got bought
I’ve seen all the slim shady deals come and go
I tried to tell you, but my dog whistle voice was always a bit too low
I was in bruuuuces studio just soaking it in
I was in Hansa studios to begin again
I was in New York on the 88th floor on 911.
On the wall I heard the blasting caps in building 7
Covered in asbestos dust barely able to fly
With 1 day left on my 2 day life span, wanting to die
I may be small, but after eating all my spinach, I’ll be a respectable size
with respectable girth
Maybe then the meek shall truly inherit the earth
I may be a lowly little fly but I have a nagging conscious
And for the life of me, I don’t know why
I may have a little shit on my shoes and a little more on my antennae
And I may be attracted to shit bars and the sweet pollen of shit flowers named Anna
You see…the fly needs shit to keep the family going for years and years
The Fly needs everything shit. Everything but shit music in his ears.
So let the gorillas or elephants or tigers or bears run the zoo
Paddy…a Jameson please served in a lady’s shoe?
Cause 2 days of life is too short especially for a barfly
So here on a wall…in a pub south of the tracks…I’ll sit till I die
Unless maybe an attractive pile of currency puke falls on the sidewalk outside
Then maybe I’ll dust off the old little wings and spread them wide
Maybe then I’ll fly off to an exotic third world currency unervalued land
A place where other flies are too hungry and weak to stand
You see… the zoo is full of flies…annoying as they may be
But what would this zoo be…without a little fly like me?
And all the thoughts I carry in this world they divided in two…all the ideas of change
Will have to wait till you’re done running the zoo…before I can rearrange
And on that day, given the chance to rearrange, I would know exactly what to do
I would know just what to do….when Mr. Fly runs the zoo…
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
The Fly
Viva La Vida
Whatever it takes
Apeman
Adventure Of A Lifetime
Barracuda
Pigs in Zen
Animal (Not embedded below)
Smelly Cat
Sheep
Dire Wolf
Human
Little Wing
Even Better Than The Real Thing
Running To A Standstill
And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was
Lying still
Said I gotta do something
About where we're going
Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain, maybe
Run from the darkness in the night
Singing ha, ah la la la de day
Ah da da da de day
Ah la la de day
Sweeter the sin
Bitter the taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out
You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice
You know I took the poison
From the poison stream
Then I floated out of here
Singing ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ha la la de day
She runs through the streets
With eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me
White gold and pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging
She is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
She will Suffer the needle chill
She's running to stand….still
______________________________________________________
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Copyright © 2019 Dinar Chronicles
“It’s a pretty good zoo,” Said young Gerald McGrew.
“And the fellow who runs it
Seems proud of it too
But if I ran the zoo,”
Said young Gerald McGrew,
“I’d make a few changes…That’s just what I’d do
The lions and tigers and that kind of stuff
They have up here now are not quite good enough. You see things like these in any old zoo.
They’re awfully old-fashioned. I want something new!
So I’d open each cage, I’ll unlock every pen,
Let the animals go and start over again
And somehow or other I think I could find
Some beasts of some beasts of a more unusual kind – Dr Seuss
It's no secret that the stars are falling from the sky
The universe exploding 'cos-a one man's lie
Look I gotta go, yeah, I'm running outta change
There's a lot of things…if I could I'd rearrange – The Fly
And that brings us to tonight’s word: IF I RAN THE ZOO
Tell me what you see as you look down so high above from your UFO. Do you see a zoo like never seen befoe? A zoo worth crossing the stars for? A light speed, a vortex or a wormhole or three? Tell me, tell me true…what is it that you see? Is it easy to see who runs this very upside down zoo? Who bullies, threatens and blackmails their way through? Who suicides and who cuts the brakes of all those fish in all those lakes? Who lies and cons up and down shakedown street sacrificing children and cutting up meat? Who sabotages airplanes just for a thrill? Like notches on their belt…counting their kill? Who dumbs down the schools in Baltimore, so no black children get ahead? Who keeps the boogieman alive and younglings under their bed? Who poisons the water with fluoride to make everyone sick? To make everyone sick, just for a kick? Who is too greedy to share and hordes all the food? Till all the animals starve and whither to dust in the wind, dude? Who wants to create war while only others bleed? Who teaches that not love, but war is all you need? Who do you see running the zoo? Tell me please….and tell me true. I’m only a little fly on the wall, in your tv…in the hall. My little wings can’t fly that high. But still it’s nice to try. My little wings can’t fly as high as you, but I can’t stop thinking, who controls the poo. Who? Please, if you could do me a tiny favor…like you always do…tell this tiny fly who runs the zoo.
What if the bees ran the zoo? Would the bees find their way in to every college campus? Could the crazy bees who give out free literature samples of their bittersweet honey run it? The first one’s always free. Just a little taste. The bees who swarm on the drop of a social media dime? And disperse just as fast? Right before the cops get there. Funny how that works. The crazy bees who are always mad about somebody? Somebody white? Somebody fascist? Or anti-fascist? I’m getting confused. I thought fascists were supposed to be white. That’s racist. But I digress. The zoo doesn’t discriminate. Fascism can be black, brown, white, handicapable, red, yellow, gay or identify as the opposite sex. But who can tell? The bees wear many masks. Hard to tell who’s under those hoods these days. All it takes is a clever queen bee telling their subjects what to do. Where to go. Who to follow. How to mix cement milkshakes. The queen is hard to find, but the hive is not. Just look to your nearest overpriced higher educational institution. These hives are now the new indoctrination of chaos boot camps. And fact less knee jerk reactions are just 101 requirements. Bees don’t care about facts. Their anger comes from their gut. A feeliness. Truth from the gut. Facts can be manipulated. There are those who think with their head and those who know with their heart. But when that pretty bee tells me the only way to her heart is to bust a baseball bat upside Andy Ngo’s head…well that’s a truth from somewhere below the belt.
“Truthiness is the belief or assertion that a particular statement is true based on the intuition or perceptions of some individual or individuals, without regard to evidence, logic, intellectual examination, or facts. Truthiness can range from ignorant assertions of falsehoods to deliberate duplicity or propaganda intended to sway opinions. The concept of truthiness has emerged as a major subject of discussion surrounding U.S. politics during the 1990s and 2000s because of the perception among some observers of a rise in propaganda and a growing hostility toward factual reporting and fact-based discussion” Wikipedia
Unfortunately, the gut can be manipulated by emotion. Or money. Are the bee’s idealists or just paid mercenaries carrying out the queens agenda? Little from column A and a little from column B. See previous statement regarding impressing the opposite sex. Nothing new but worth noting.
Sorry I had a fight in the middle of your Black Panther party
Although it’s bit hard to blame the bee. Management of the zoo went to shit. Cut back on food. Nicotine poison. The sweet honey comb of life turned into a bitter matrix reality. Lack of good pollen. Someone’s to blame. No one knows who but the bee will find someone. White beekeeper was a good target for a lost bee. White bee keeper has all the good pollen. But don’t forget, the black flower was targeted as well. As the brown. That’s where the bee gets lots. Can’t see the big honeycomb. The bee has always been a pawn in their game and always will be just the same. No matter what color hood it’s wearing these days. No matter what their antifa flag says. Does the bee run the zoo? They do not. And wish not do you.
What if the wolves ran the zoo? Eating their young in spirit cooking stew? Would the wolves come out at night making the rounds to kick in the doors of all the other animals homes? Would no one be safe when the full moon comes out? Would mothers run for cover as night takes control of the day? Would they hide their children in the attic? Would they hide their neighbors’ children under the floorboards? Would they make the dolphin choose between neighbor and family?
You are sheltering enemies of the state are you not?
The wolves rule by absolute power absolutely. They are no stranger to death. The wolf does not use bats. They use false flags. They send direct messages through their suiciding. They blackmail the lions. Hit and run under disguise of a mask in the town square is not their play. They play a grander game of chess. High stakes poker. About 110 stories high. The wolf knows confidently it’s place in the hierarchy. The wolf knows Der Kommissar has his back at all times. Should we give the wolves a chance to shine and how? That depends….would you like the zoo to become another Dachau?
And the owl says hoot hoot. May I throw my hat in to run the zoo? The owl is wise beyond his years. He sees all. Especially in the black of night. He sees everything and holds onto it for future use. A no tell motel out on 55 secret street is not outside his reach. The owl listens to all. Data collection is the owl’s trade. Mountains of data. Everyone. Everywhere. Shame in the day. Shame in the night. Standard Hotel. Little St James. Bohemian grove. Adventureland. Magic Kingdom. The playboy mansion. Big brother is watching you. Can I get a hoot hoot? You’ll never walk alone. Or in privacy. And all the animals in the zoo have been so kind to the owl and made his job so much easier. Iphones! Get your iphones! Let me get this straight….2 cameras, a microphone and a GPS? You are too kind to the owl. No really….you’re too kind. Said the night wind to the little lamb…do you see what I see? Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy…do you hear what I hear? Do you know what I know? Well…the owl knows all the above…where you go…who you love.
The owl doesn’t talk much but when he does it’s a simple question…who? Who’s gonna step in it tonight? Who’s not going to be able to keep it in his pants? Who’s gonna give me free dirt? Who’s gonna tell his mistress company secrets tonight? Who’s gonna drink that roofie colada? Who’s gonna wake up with a dead hooker in his bed? Who’s gonna wake up with a live boy in his bed? That’s Hollywood.
You’d think this place was the garden of Eden, but there’s trouble in paradise
But don’t blame the owl. He’s just the court reporter entering all into record in the grand courtroom of the zoo. What would the sheep do all day without the juicy gossip he provides? He’s just the all seeing eye witness to the temptation and wickedness in the zoo. Every single shameful tidbit. For shame is a wonderful motivator. So is starvation. This blackmail thing really gets a bad rap. But the owl doesn’t lay the bait. The owl doesn’t drop the mickey. You can’t blame the owl who has no name. for the owl is just a pawn in their game. To answer your question Mr. Owl if you can run the zoo…I’m sorry you cannot. You cannot times two.
Don’t forget the hyenas. They would love to run the zoo. The 24 hour a day talking heads on channel 22. The unquietable hyenas cackling with the volume so high throughout every corner of the zoo. What’s a meek toothless crackhead sheep to do? All the night shift hyenas getting their pysop 4 am talking points ready for morning coffee. They come fast and hard. And the sheep without their espresso. Hardly seems fair. Surprise attack…killed em in their sleep that night. The hyena never runs alone. Always in packs. And they never pass the mic. They love the limelight where the lights are loud and bright. The makeup is thick. The smiles are big. Drama. Laughter. Anything to build trust. Anything to get the buffalo running off a cliff. Shall we give the hyenas a chance to run the zoos? No, sorry, Shenzi. Too many Geppetto handlers spinning up too much fake news.
And the pig 700 pounds who’s slow to move, says where my try? Can I run the zoo? Or am I destined to fry? I do my best to be honest with myself and with my source. I sleep where I take my shoes off because shit makes the softest bed of course. I am happy and content to root in shit. To eat shit. To lie in shit. But I do not lie about who I am…of that you can admit. No qualms about it. I am at peace in my shit. I am in Zen. Can you say the same for the snake in his pen? Maybe it’s best I don’t run the zoo if when I speak, all you see is my honey glazed rear end. But that’s too bad cause I have ideas and the animals suffering I could mend. Could you please grab me my grabbing stick before you leave? And I’m sorry but I think I got a little shit on your sleeve.
Pig…you know thyself and we all respect that to us, you always speak true. But as for running the zoo? That’ll do, pig….that’ll do….
That’ll do pig…
But what about me? Yoo hoo! I’m over here…who said that? It’s me…the black goo. Can I run the zoo? Oh black goo….I am not ready for this one bit. Shoo. We still trying to get the sheep used to the border wall. And Elijah Cummings, a man of color, not caring for color at all. Racist? And to be honest, we don’t know enough about your intentions, they may not be true. Please excuse me, but I’m only on X Files season 2. Maybe after season 7 when Mulder and Scully screw, you may be up for consideration of running the zoo. Don’t hold your breath. Boo hoo.
And what of I says the lizard? Can I run the zoo? uh no. Haven’t we tried this already?? A time or two? Next. This should be no surprise to you.
And what about the fox? In a box? With a mouse? In the white house? Can I run the zoo? I’m good at running. I’ve been running for years from you know who. And I’ve stayed out of the hunter’s pens. With the help of those in high places. With the help of my friends. So, can I run the zoo? Fox…it depends. You do move fast and of that we can see. But you don’t work well with others and that’s disappointing to me. But check back in a few years if we haven’t found the one. Check back with us if you can stop the run. If you ever learn to let others into your heart, instead of the life you lived, trusting no one. So no, Fox, you may not run the zoo. But you know what, little brother?....you just keep doing you.
And what of the gorillas and apes and orangutans? Slinging poo. Yanking their Yangs. Freedom dividend BOOM. They can make spears out of sticks. They can ride horses backs. And with their little thumbs, they can print fiat money and count up their fat stacks. They can wear cute little dresses and black and white tuxedos. Oh the champagne they’ll spill. Oh yes… the banking apes do well up on bankers hill. But it’s easy to do fair when your money is printed from thin air. And the rest of the zoo must eventually bow to you. For the chimps own all the cheese. All wars are chimpanzee wars. They’ll sell spears to both sides. Any way they roll the dice, guess who wins the prize? And guess who pays the price? Will the damn dirty apes run the zoo? All apologies Dr. Zaius. As a debt slave master in a debt slave zoo…no. It will not be you.
Baaaa. And what of us, ask the sheep? We are a kind ..*NO* Stop right there. You say you have an open mind but when logic speaks to you, knee jerk emotion is all you find. You listen too much to the hyenas and fail to think for yourself. And when truth finally does find you, it’s discarded easily on the shelf. You have a long way to go before even asking to run the zoo. But I get it, asking for things before you earn them is what sheep do. Maybe someday when you return with the humility of a Matthew 18 child, you still may not run the zoo, but heaven will be yours and you will make me smile.
What about you Mr. Fly? So quiet on the wall? No interest in running the zoo? Do you think you’re above it all?
You may keep your zoo keeper job, zookeeper. It looks like too hard of work
herding sheep to and fro on this earth
I’ll continue to fly here and there planting seeds of light in the sheep’s ears
It’s what I do…I’ve been doing it for years…
But call me if ever your guy doesn’t quite fit the bill
Call me…old Mr. Fly…that is if I’m flying still
You’ll find me dreaming on a barstool at some shit pub high upon that wall
Watching the zoo beneath me…. watching it all
I was always there. When the cops asked who dunnit?
I was there in Roswell and the social media summit
I was in Selma and when the Kennedys were shot
I was in area 51 when Eisenhauer got bought
I’ve seen all the slim shady deals come and go
I tried to tell you, but my dog whistle voice was always a bit too low
I was in bruuuuces studio just soaking it in
I was in Hansa studios to begin again
I was in New York on the 88th floor on 911.
On the wall I heard the blasting caps in building 7
Covered in asbestos dust barely able to fly
With 1 day left on my 2 day life span, wanting to die
I may be small, but after eating all my spinach, I’ll be a respectable size
with respectable girth
Maybe then the meek shall truly inherit the earth
I may be a lowly little fly but I have a nagging conscious
And for the life of me, I don’t know why
I may have a little shit on my shoes and a little more on my antennae
And I may be attracted to shit bars and the sweet pollen of shit flowers named Anna
You see…the fly needs shit to keep the family going for years and years
The Fly needs everything shit. Everything but shit music in his ears.
So let the gorillas or elephants or tigers or bears run the zoo
Paddy…a Jameson please served in a lady’s shoe?
Cause 2 days of life is too short especially for a barfly
So here on a wall…in a pub south of the tracks…I’ll sit till I die
Unless maybe an attractive pile of currency puke falls on the sidewalk outside
Then maybe I’ll dust off the old little wings and spread them wide
Maybe then I’ll fly off to an exotic third world currency unervalued land
A place where other flies are too hungry and weak to stand
You see… the zoo is full of flies…annoying as they may be
But what would this zoo be…without a little fly like me?
And all the thoughts I carry in this world they divided in two…all the ideas of change
Will have to wait till you’re done running the zoo…before I can rearrange
And on that day, given the chance to rearrange, I would know exactly what to do
I would know just what to do….when Mr. Fly runs the zoo…
And that’s the word
Heisenberg
The Fly
Viva La Vida
Whatever it takes
Apeman
Adventure Of A Lifetime
Barracuda
Pigs in Zen
Animal (Not embedded below)
Smelly Cat
Sheep
Dire Wolf
Human
Little Wing
Even Better Than The Real Thing
Running To A Standstill
And so she woke up
Woke up from where she was
Lying still
Said I gotta do something
About where we're going
Step on a steam train
Step out of the driving rain, maybe
Run from the darkness in the night
Singing ha, ah la la la de day
Ah da da da de day
Ah la la de day
Sweeter the sin
Bitter the taste in my mouth
I see seven towers
But I only see one way out
You got to cry without weeping
Talk without speaking
Scream without raising your voice
You know I took the poison
From the poison stream
Then I floated out of here
Singing ha la la la de day
Ha la la la de day
Ha la la de day
She runs through the streets
With eyes painted red
Under a black belly of cloud in the rain
In through a doorway she brings me
White gold and pearls stolen from the sea
She is raging
She is raging
And the storm blows up in her eyes
She will Suffer the needle chill
She's running to stand….still
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