Extinction of Metaphor

Flaming trees in desert grass grow
Burning down the houses of our malcontent

The giant swirling masses of extinction
Come crying out loud for a bitter ending
Four horses draw four carriages across the sun
Stretching and gnawing at the purple rainbow
They bring time across the waves of consciousness

Shining the beam onto itself
The bright, burning murderers of times past
Rely on acid dreams to take hold of the righteousness

The gallant streams perverse the landscape
Twisting the desert heat into a waste-ist ideal
Foul language lights the political verve
We love the thought of offending no one

Times have changed
Trees burn on the range
Where the buffalo no longer roam
A desert crossing of whim and talent
Regard the possibilities of a future past

Stoke the flame into a billowing pyre
And watch the slow ants rejoice in the rain