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You call me Mad tis folly to do so, To seek to turn a Madman to a Foe, If you think as you speak you are an Ass, If you do not you are but what you was.Lost in a wilderness of gamine posers and apathy, I found them Blind and taught them how to see, and now they know niether themselves or me, Tis Excellent to turn a thorn to a pin, A Fool to a bolt a knave to a glass of gin,And to those wearing pre-paid 1000 dollar denim, romantic poverty with the riches in the other room, Cry of the streets never slept upon, of hunger pains on a full belly, These are dark times for us, For there are none so obtuse as those who think they are cynical, CRITICAL. But they are hiding, and there is no truth to be found in hiding places, an entire world braced upon, against itself. Are we not fading Fast?The arrogance, that knowing smile, we were better off with the fat cats, cigar smoking, money grubbing, because it's always about the money, and at least they were honest about it.You're lucky I don't burn books, 'Cause you know which on I'd burn first- the Devil is in the details.
William Blake, mostly
