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last page of the program
last act of the night
last flake of the snowman
last rat left alive
knowing i’m the new dinosaur
the old day dynasty denoument ambassador
there’s no longer any other way to spin it
the bugs in my intestine ‘bout to get their fifteen minutes
of blissful ignorance, wishfully thinking they can win it
they shoulda read the minutes from the last meeting
but no one ever does
end up like they never was
un-immortalized in the halls of has-beens
the portal lies where the palls are passing
on the other side the horde’s amassing

or much more likely, the void’s a vanishing
act, statically managing matter
without talent or tact
and when the talons retract
it’s the balance of fact
that wins back the occupied cities
but we gotta find grittier stuff
if we plan to attack
cuz the bluff aint driving all the animals back
we were tough and thriving when we ran in a pack
now we just the fried snacks for tiny giants
biding time and slightly pious
but mostly just blind defiant and biased
uninspired sellsword, bored of class and don’t test well
well-worn, here to try to stand where the rest fell
aspiring tyrant, maybe overly reliant on violence
but money can’t buy me silence
and the noise is just masking the death knell
the bell voice here to put a crack in your best shell

oh dear god, what is this fresh hell?
the frying pan aint seem so bad now
i used to sizzle with the strength of sandows
but here in the fire i rely on handouts
a man down, he couldn’t handle the home stretch
a born wretch like me saved but tone-deaf
no breath, he lays down his weapons
and silently counts down the last few seconds


from Rhyme Circus Winter Special EP, released March 24, 2014
Music by Grant Livesay




Marcus Carab Toronto, Ontario

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