I’ve had this running battle.

Avoiding normal was a fued.

On the farm with hay and cattle.

Not gonna be that dude.

A one way ticket to the town.

Now it’s years since I am here.

With all the crazy going around.

I want normal now I fear.

Rain is rushing down the gutter.

Washing all that’s in the way.

It’s either one thing or the other…

Bad or good, it’s all in play.

Doesn’t matter what you’re thinking.

Which way that wind is gonna blow.

If you’re down there in the gutter.

Only one way up I know.

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It’s payday at the Gulag… There are smiles raining down.

The dealers here, peddling dreams. Anticipation is all the sound.

It’s chaos until midnight. When Cinderella hears a moan.

She was in the Masters dark room, where she thought they were alone.

It’s over like it started. Alarm clocks ring at dawn.

We move like it’s all over… It’s just the money that’s all gone.

She had a voice like mother… with a low sweet cadence drawl.

The kind that makes one shudder like a noose before the fall.

I searched for strength to hold back. I didn’t know how or what.

She caught me in that moment where I tried and failed to shut.

I wasn’t sure her motive, however I felt that it was planned.

I lost my will to say goodbye and then I lost my will to stand.

I left things as they started, all bright eyed and confused.

I left alone with my life more black and blue than bruised.

Wicked Wanda’s telling stories and none of them are true.

She has her Heroes riled up and they’re coming for me and you.

Now I can’t say I’m worried because I’ve dealt with this before.

You see I knew her older sister and her Mother I adore.

But for you I’d make provisions, set affairs and say goodbyes.

When Wanda’s on the war path, there’s no running from those lies.

The yellow bus is shaking, the steps are worn down.

The actors dreams forsaking, all except our featured clown.

There’s a a sadness to his armor and a stiffness to his smile.

He is on the yellow bus now and will be for a while.

Under makeup there’s a human; who wonders, ‘Who am I?’

No one gives an answer and the bus just drives on by.

It’s a long road if we’re lucky and a short one if we’re not.

The clown is in his mind now, where all battles now are fought.

For years, I’ve been promoting Rule # 2 as ‘Never shit in your own nest’ and never clearly have stated ‘Rule number 1’…

‘Anything you have that you prioritize making money over you lose… ‘

It is s a lofty title, competitions an all time high.

The Chaos Queen is crowned tonight at the corner of high and dry.

My horse is in the running. No shackles are on her toes.

She will lead from wire to wire, and then lose it by a nose.

She will claim a great injustice, policemen will be called.

The crowd will be disjointed with most feelings left appalled.

The winner will be all smiles with a twinkle in her eyes.

The Chaos Queen will wear her crown made to fit most any size.

She’s been quiet in the suburbs; walks a dog on cul-de-sac.

She’s getting wise on wine and proverbs; and she’s not coming back.

There’s a smile on my face now; I’m afraid its here to stay.

The cul-de-sac goes round and round; so quiet far away.