Rebel Rebel

Heavy rain on the mountain causes strain on the fountain of joy
But she abstains from the shoutin’
Notwithstanding how much this is getting her annoyed
Is she a bona fide cosmic rebel or the devil herself?

Graceful glide, an oasis of blue style within a desert of green
She is a mighty potent mixture of genteel taste
With just a tiny dash of the obscene
As she spots the bright gold beacon directly up ahead,
Does she contemplate just what it is?
Perhaps a calling to the faithful
Or an indication that we may be grateful after we’re dead

Weird blue beards must accompany the endeared wherever they go
Each one trotting with a sense of marauding, never looking to or fro
As she walks with her eyes held up high and the sun glowing off of her teeth
Any chance that she’s the genuine article?
Or some creature that’s deceitful
Set to conjure up all the evil from down underneath

I know basic algebra so I think that I can calculate
The dilemma laid out underneath these trees
Yes, I know all of the critical theories
So I’m allotted certain fires and furies
As I can judge you long before
You and I even meet, yes that’s my expertise

Is she our legitimate heroine? Or have we all been fooled again?
Go and launch an investigation and return with some information
But will you follow through? (I’m on it)
Will you follow though? (yes, I’m on it)
Please follow though! (I’m on it)