“Glowin’ in the Why Fi”
There’s a highway of numbers
where ghosts of stories roam,
faces in the windows
can be anyone unknown.
You can trade your name for nothin’,
you can sell your soul for smoke,
you can sign away your future
with a joke.
Chorus
All the clicks you make become your road,
lies you help carry, a deadly load.
So before you follow somebody's desires
ask what’s that glowin', glowin' in the Why Fi . ..
There’s a salesman at your doorstep
you can’t see and can’t ignore,
he’s got contracts in his briefcase
slidin’ underneath your door.
There’s a kid who thinks the sunlight
comes from underneath a screen,
there’s an old man readin’ pop‑ups
like they’re letters from a queen.
At the end of every evenin’
when you drop your head and rest,
all the neon talkin’ pictures
fade like smoke across your chest.
What you gave away for nothin’,
or only left you cryin'
that’s your "Song of myself"
glowin' in the Why Fi. . .
Chorus
All the clicks you make become your road,
lies you help carry, a deadly load.
So before you follow somebody's desires
ask what’s that glowin, ’glowin' in the Why Fi . .
wracton@gmail.com
williamacton.legalshieldassociate.com
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