meat puppets
creator
Everybody's got some kind of Belief about creator Some say openly "I don't know" Some build elevators To take the chosen few Who can afford the scenic view To the top of some big tower Looking down on fields of blue Walking clouds on caves of emptiness That fall around their mind To flirt openly with vapor And the trail it leaves behind  Fences fly and sidewalks cry Concerning our creator Turning loose the butterfly That ate the alligator Picking up its open-ended Holographic roots It moved out to the tower  To look down on me and you Walking caves of empty water In the boring morning rain Making love to open windows And the vapor trails refrain