towards the slaughterhouse

look! see?
a sea of cows
walking in sync towards the slaughterhouse.
dreaming green pastures and poppies bright red
they're all wanting something but that's not what they'll get.
they're all looking at it but not processing yet
and that temporary blindness will cost them their heads.
because dreaming and wanting are powerful tools
only when not in the hands of the fools.
that's when they blind and they twist
and they shatter good sense
turning friends into foes
starting tense conversations that don't always end well
changing moods, calling blackness that will never dispel.
it's a spell or a curse or a mixture of both
but the warning remains
like a dent on a thought.

so dream 'cause we need dreamers to reinvent life,
to make it more daring
but don't throw caution aside:
getting yourself way in over your head
might cause you, quite fast, to lose it instead...