Peace (Something) Blues

In the beginning was the race and the race was with god and the race was god. Dark shadows and the venom life uncertain. Why did Babel fall - divine jelousy or an unsturdy foundation. Race high and win or die trying. Then they tell you you've got a drinking problem and won't let you fire the gun anymore. The race is at a stand still. You must take time then to contemplate the fall of Babel and all other manner of things that seemed insignificant before. Join back up again - raise more arms only to find defeat again. Eventually even the Templars were burned for heresy. Give up. But we were never fully taught what that means. Time will always lead to that great season before the end. The time of the snake and beauty of belial, of sideways cars and applications, letters e-mails wind calls that never amount anything but wasted energy forming itself into matter chains that like Jacob we will be forever punished to wear. Speck of energy - begotten of titans to waste away. The winter trees are forming 'tis that season of doom. Keep pace for the race is still upon us those who do not run are forced to watch.