Utopia (Inversion Past)
Now, Eden is where Eve ripped the serpent from its dream
and ate the apple that nurtured my muse.
The Promised Land is a desert where we redeem
but it’s dusty and lonely and full of taboos.
You know El Dorado is merely painted in gold,
the temples aren’t worth their weight in stone.
And Shangri-La high on a mountain got sold,
it’s just a hotel for those who can score a bank loan.
When the ancient angels of Valhalla open their doors
you enter the next room to find it’s all earthly same.
The Elysian Fields are overgrown with invasive spoors,
clear-cut and burned with a mighty, prayerful flame.
They say Avalon is where the magic sword was born
but it can be melted like any scrap of steel.
Headed back to Zion to retrieve a tradition forlorn,
the past is always present in the spinning newsreel.
Now, Utopia don’t sound like Paradise to me
and Atlantis was never lost because it never was at all.
I guess Heaven must be nice, so I cling to the belief
that we create our own version by measuring how far we fall.
