All the writings
Doomed not to see
The habits
Of bliss apathy
The puppet
His maker,
The Pesticide
That homicides
Being very fond of their waving Pride,
Dream faker.
Admiral Arrogance
And a crew of blindfolds
The Machine
And all its machinery told
The Blinding Light that covers
The trust of helpless others
With talks of blandishment
For an ever falling establishment
I hate it all but I wasn’t born to hate
I was born to fix and complicate
this isnt about me, its about us.
