Toe Jammin’
aka Feet of Oil ~ Brent Harris

How will we ever know what is right
Despite what all hierophants preach
How do we keep our fiery hope alight
Our answer’s unknown, but we reach

If a word, god, didn’t exist, now, never
I cannot imagine the need to coin one
I been proven wrong, still, I am clever
At night there’s moon, in the day, sun

And after our time has been taken away
Is that meant to last throughout eternity
Then will it matter if we go, or if we stay
Or, if in life we live as slaves or live free

Much our life may hold for us and ours
Dark depths or to heights that we aspire
Consuming our pages, our book of hours
To be pitchforked, or singing in the choir

At least that what some profess to believe
I must say I find it quite silly and absurd
A blade of grass, an autumn tree’s leaves
Are more spiritual than any book or word