When I sweap
Do I enjoy it
When I sleek
Do I have time
When I neat
Don’t I really fucking care
Yet when the extra work piles on
Do I do anything but have a smile on my face?
Not for the job
– but for the deeds that I’ve done
And the help that I’ve served?
Does the sun that I’m building
Even shine its light
Onto your fence?
And can the walls be built
If you blow on its stilt
How can this shelter bring you peace …
When you sweap
Can you see the sunlight?
When you sleek
No one has the time
When you neat
Did you do it for yourself?
Or to build a sun for your world?
Because even when you don’t feel it
The suns always rising in the sky somewhere…
To live through one night like this,
I would trade it for the silence...
MENACE 