Persecuted Salman Rushdie wrote a big book
and some people took umbrage with his outlook
While back in Indiana the folk punk man
Laid his hands upon a fan while preaching peace
But am I any exception? How about you?
Would life push us down Clavin’s route
or snuff us out like Mischief Brew?
A fatwa on his head, a marriage torn apart
Mr. Salman Rushdie had to hide inside his art
While another punk rock kid in a mediocre band
Cloys out for acceptance as they puke out in the van
Will anyone get better? Is any message true?
Would life pick us apart again and turn our innards black and blue?
Meanwhile Voyager is leaving the solar system
The Earth’s a little pixel back on the black expanse
And all of us down here will sometime soon
Cease to exist entirely and never be exhumed
The universe will churn, unaffected by our pain
Still we sit and flicker and fight our way through the game