THE WHEEL ON THE RUNAWAY TRAIN
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.
It is the story it is the crux of the creation myth, a simple beauty
absent of all pretense and pith, the marriage of the mind and the
motion, and the reaching for the apple was just an impulsive notion.
It started with a good idea to ease the burden on our back, but now
it’s on the train and the train is on the track, and the doctor can not
heal you if he is insane, started out with the wheel and ended up on a
Now where is nowhere going so fast, the future is just some fiend from
your shady past, doom is not the destination just some perpetual
discontent, but this landlord pays the rent, down at the Olympus
museum the unknown is on display, if your already vested you don’t
even have to pay, you can sit and have launch and watch the train roll
by, wonder how fast it’s going wonder how fast is why.
It started with a good idea to increase the mileage of our mind, we
used it to travel down that road didn’t know what we’d find, now were
numb and we can’t figure out how to describe the pain, started out
with the wheel and ended up on a runaway train.
Past this artless architecture like a blur, with all the humility and the
arrogance of fake fur, the muscle in the soul and the faint stench of
worth, mother in heat sloshing thru the afterbirth, natures tongue
probing natures toothache, sacred city to build abandon and forsake,
the essence of empty the something of more, thru pastures of May
electric Babylon whore, modern man with his stone age passion,
computer animated designers command the latest fashion, soul of the
circuit board fuels the mind of the wheel, till what’s false in design is
all that seems real.
We’ll get our mercy tied to the tracks, building our myth from these
born again facts, the luxury of ease is now the burden on our backs.