If left to our own devices,
We tend towards the complex,
Random happenings within our nature,
Arranging patterns that just say "Yes!"
So who acts & who directs?
Who makes the tea & who projects?
The Reptilian Mind is linked to the spine,
So the hierarchy can collect,
Some rhythms are divisive,
Until their signature changes time,
In your head there's a TV screen,
In Heaven everything is fine,
For surely we are all migrants,
In a evolving sea, made from clay,
The Beast has desires,
Man has emotions,
But the spirit has consciousness,
And some get lost along the way.