we filter the world through the prisms we create and hold us captive
even as times change we want that which has been true to always be true
i’m a meteor some mornings, adrift in space or so i believe
sometimes our hard work is only a placeholder for something better
our lives are contained in a series of boxes of our own making
cast in silhouette the last evening of winter fades without drama
when the threat is real we cannot be distracted by the shiny part
we tend to ignore things that don’t look right; until there is a problem
to assimilate heritage must be reduced to stereotypes
everything’s changed so we value those times when we can feel normal
uptown jack 