Sleepwalking through our spoon-fed lives...



As evidence of times before

in chapters long forgotten

the reotting tombs of history are written by the victors

empty words are staring back as paragraphs of power leave

no traces of the toiler's fate (just one massacre to many-and none too late)



All glory comes from death

desensitized in unreal fiction forms

our leaders never die- it's the working poor that fight their wars



It is written? It is rotten- their truth is dead and rotting



With decades passing and nothing changing

the hourglass grows empty again

tunnel visions and career clowns

send ivory towers crumbling down

the pulse is fading

the axe is falling

another tragedy unfolds

the moral standard

the status quote

the carcasses of millions left in their wake



The paper bound in books that glorify the acts of murderers will burn just

like all empires that have come before



500 years dead...cold and efficient they carry out their plan-indoctrinate

the youth to the textbook wasteland

as patriots empowered

they coronate themselves

breed us on their lies

and they feed us to the wolves