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Single file lemmings
We prepare our mandate in effect simply
A testament to our gullability
With each pull of the lever
We lend credibility to an institution
Which we can only repaint
Never reconstruct our percieved power of change
So divided and spread so thin
So as to be rendered ineffective
If the collective voice cannot be heard
Then the collective wrath must be felt.
. . .
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While we used long fingernails
To carve epitaphs into the floor
You were scratching freedom from concrete
Living in a world of gamblers and murder victims
I walk these corridors knowing
Of the net beneath your defiance
Has become legend within these walls
And we sit in our cells and hope
You live enough life for the rest of us
Who did not make it out
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Late term abortion three decades late
Be sure to empty all ten commandments
Into his chest for only holy redneck terrorism
Can usher in the second coming of the coat hanger
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The trivial little things left in your wake
Are beloved terminally infected limbs
It is not the firing squad
But the blindfold that makes us tense
Loss of perfection leaves no cause
To persist in searching
Leaving me longing for the day
That finally smothers all hope
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Uncertainty demands attention like a middle child
And narrows focus like a bone
Saw it is the cocoon from which the truth emerges
And once the pattern upon the wings is unveiled
It transcends our childish concepts of control
And becomes something that simply is
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Experimentation as roadblock
Let us halt the goose-stepping
Of their absurd sexual revolution
Please explain the fascist math equation
For converting first person worship
To third person lechery
And show me the god who is making you stretch
Our preferences across your moral chopping block
Because I would so love to cum in his motherfucking face
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Entrenched in a cult
Where you are assured that two and two is five
Your twisted crosses and perverted religions
Cannot mask what is simply a holy war
Of aryan penis envy
Learn to take your pride from the depths
And not the surface.
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Seeking to expand the sympathy collection
Self-esteem should never be parasitic
And stagnation should never get comfortable
Anxiously awaiting the answers with refutations
At the ready marionette of circumstance
You need to see beyond the walls of your petty little diorama
. . .
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