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Imagine: from within that fire of a mind,
A golden ghost emerging.
Isn't that possible?
A forty-car pileup out there,
On the super highway.
It's all on the table now, as rivets quiver,
I touch your face.
Is there a bank machine around?
Dark materials; that's how it's going down.
Professional.
Human life, human lies,
Human rights, human nights
Tacit understanding; we're basically sliding.
Gotta keep it together now.
Lace up, look alive.
And don't forget those men,
Men with designs on your life
And they're not messing around.
So kiss me.
We're the proactive mystics,
Hand's on destinys throat.
Not much of a plot to lose,
And no fabric to soak
Professional.
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