I'm supposedly a learned man from a school of higher thought
But I pawned off my integrity, and look at what I bought
A ticket for a single seat on a train that won't progress
I'm just one of many guests on the Idiot Express

I'm seated next to Alice, who's life has been obscene
domestic death is what she left by the station's pop machine
She earned herself a scholarship for total lack of depth
the committee was impressed on the Idiot Express

Malcontents and martyrs navigate the rails
their inherent sense to trust pretense guides and never fails
as we're all somebody's pieces in this twisted game of chess
that's not something we address on the Idiot Express

I applied with highest hopes I'd pass their standard test
"Are you stupid and naive?" they asked, and to that I acquiesced
they were satisfied, I got a ride on the Idiot Express

So I'll ride through life with Alice, sedated in our bliss
pathetic, paranoid and proud, we're thankful to subsist
She spills her juice at dinner, and I drool on my vest
but we're happy more less, on the Idiot Express

All Aboard


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A rare genius. The critics are right. Expect great things from this man.

-Ken Wilber, Author of over a dozen books on consciousness