Natural Selection

It’s best this mess is part of the plan

The truth is moving under the ground

You’re sure the steering wheel

Is resting in your hands

Tough to say

You think success belongs to the bank

You take directions into the skin

An ancient motor revving up

To keep it living on

Strings tied to the hands

Hands upon a mouth

Sneaky ways

The path is written before the act

A mode of growing seems like a choice

It feels like progress

Is a product of a hidden game

What obeys

You measure hits by stuff in the house

It’s more sincerely smiles on the face

The instinct leads you if you do

Or if you don’t want

Tackle on a neck

Trapped within the ring

Tough to say

What obeys

Sneaky ways

Sneaky ways