Our greatest threats are lesser evils Joining hands to hold us back Worried looks from heartless people Tearful words from soulless hacks Faux concern from thieves and rapists Thoughts and prayers from Epstein’s friends Moral laws from Fascist racists Healthcare laws from Cigna’s pens Bought and sold progressive leaders Say we’re starving much too loud But All I see are meaty speakers Talking down to hungry crowds Squad and all their sleazy leeches feast on workers plump with clout Stalk them through the tallest grassroots Track the Unions, drag them down Reap their labor, Eat their labor, None too proud to suck it out None too shamed To freeze your wage Then beg for change Like; “Fund Me, NOW!” “Rush me twenty bucks or our democracy will surely drown!” “Rush me twenty bucks so we can cluster bomb a hundred towns” “Rush me twenty bucks and once you’ve emptied out your bank account, you’ll get to say you’ve made us proud and Blackrock gets to take your house“ Just rows and rows of perfect clones of vacant homes Razed to bones then carried off by corporate crows Beneath a gaping sky Where nothing lives and nothing grows But hungry money swells and bloats and money-hungry grifters gloat To fleece the coats, and trust, and votes, Of sheep and sacrificial goats They coax their hopes, like open throats where leeches feast on helpless hosts The offer sees their beast invoked The Blackrock altar belches smoke It rises, that the world may know, they’ve christened two new CEO’s One for press and public show and one that just the board will know Who wears a crown of migrant’s hands And smiles when the cities flood Who’s been anointed, Head-to-toe In worker’s rights and children’s blood Who Bought the bill that soaked organic vegetables in fracking mud Who Made his billions banking on technologies for tracking us Who Filmed us every day, as we kept smiling where the camera was and Streaming from our Cancer Clusters Chatting up some Langley Bugs Who take the time to listen when you think that no one gives a shit Nice enough to help you sow your discord into stripper clips Lead you to an act that they have planned out like a business trip Show you where the buzzwords go when manifesting manuscripts It’s manufactured terrorism, Crafted by precision tip Sanded past all recognition Ground beneath clandestine grit Carefully conducted By the feds in the orchestral pit Watched by millions, None the wiser, Smiling wide, applauding it. So, who yells “Fire” in the theater, when they don’t smell the hint of smoke? What audience, enrapt and eager rises up, as one, to go, and flees, as from some gnarled reaper? Leaves the actors there, alone? Who would hear one frantic teacher, Warnings blared through tears and foam, say: “Rob yourselves of entertainment, Leave your seats, but don’t go home!” “The War Outside is greater than these actors care to show!” “We’ve one night left before containment Early dawn, they’ll drop the dome!” “The streets tonight need all your anger! Playing now: The Fall Of Rome!”

Now, What you’re following That’s idolatry That’s just fake And all that wallowing That you tolerate, That’s not faith The kings of colony Watched autonomy Make our graves The kings of colony Know no policy Only rape! Now, Once you fall asleep It won’t bother you What they say But The kings of colony, While they slaughter, They Still complain That we say ‘Please, Collar Me’ still, too solemnly, still, too plain All Hail Economy Praise thee, Pharmacy Seas in flames ~ They’re buying up Hawaii and the smoke’s not even cleared Those vultures smelled the fire and an enterprise appeared Investment opportunities Where melted-down communities Leave vacant space that Blackrock has been lusting for for YEARS The council meets in private and they don’t discuss survivors Concerns among construction groups Are all Lahaina hears They’ll wander through your city with this mocking sort of pity Next to Oprah and her camera crew Who tour the trail of tears Where footage flows as freely as the stream of liquid steel, and the pools of pure aluminum that trickled down your wheels And Biden’s come to say he knows exactly how it feels; Cause had a kitchen fire, once, and had to miss a meal And people still believe that piece of shit deserves your vote Like he’s not why supplies are being smuggled in by boat Like he’s not why our citizens were forced to stay and roast And he can’t unfreeze your funding, folks, Cause Azov needs it most I’ll bet my every dollar Biden watched it with a smile I’ll bet he knows the whereabouts of every missing child He’s just the kind of man Who lives to trample something tribal Collecting culture’s corpses just to throw them on the pile Like he and all his buddies didn’t dream about the day When those who dared defy the donor class were cleared away When home insurance triples and you can’t afford to stay And your land falls to the hands of those whose windfall fanned the flames The state will take Lahaina, And they’ll bastardize it’s name And tourism will swarm it all the same You see, The state we left Lahaina shows the ground rules of the game the planes that, in the night, ignite the plains And if questions raise that reckon the potential use of lasers I suggest you take a closer shave by way of Occam’s razor and if those civilians stood between this country and it’s gains, then there’s really nothing further to explain Because, you may know this already, if you truly know our past, but this ain’t the first occasion and it will not be the last Where Americans are kettled in and made to bear the blast Are barricaded in and left for ash How many In Lahaina, now, are lying there, awake, and still can hear the city we left leveled in our wake they still hear all the people that we let the fire take. Instructed from above to stay in place So, look to the horizon, cause a fire comes for YOU Desire made incarnate of the power-hungry few Who’ve instructed the police to not let anybody through; To Barricade them in- and, so, they do.

Somebody said “Democracy”, and all I heard were screams Echoes of civilians being wrenched out of their dreams To see their families torn apart Their lives so much debris And no one seemed to hear the sound but me. ~ Somebody said “America”, and I began to choke So many words all bottlenecked at once, within my throat Like everyone is lining up to go get out the vote And I’m the only one who sees the smoke. ~ Somebody shouted “Terrorists!”, and cursed a foreign land, but all I saw were all the graves we made in foreign sand Like someone’s pulling strings that tell us what, for which, we stand, and I’m the only one who sees their hands. ~ Somebody mentioned “Freedom”, but I wish they never spoke. I cannot break their spell, no more than I can break my own. My curse to walk this sleeping world, it’s palaces of bones And be the only one who sees the ghosts. ~ They cannot see the rubble for the bodies trapped beneath Like they cannot see this country for the veterans on it’s streets Like they can’t acknowledge genocide at home, or in the east, because it really doesn’t phase them in the least. ~ See, some will say “Extremist” when you advocate for peace, And some will call you “Fascist” for condemning World War 3. If Democracy is dying, I, for one, say “Let It Bleed”; None would see the body, save for me. ~

Carved upon a marble altar, somewhere in a lab Are runes that match an amulet Upon an onyx slab Doctor in a white coat Guards in olive drab Kissinger, unconscious, but, as providence would have, When the doctor stands beside him, and he holds out the medallion, unconsciously, instinctively, he reaches up and grabs. Deep inside a Blacksite that is right beneath our streets, the sacrifice was made by which they demonized our speech The roots that fed the tree of life Decayed beneath our feet and Its sap was a suspension for a small medallion piece As the doctor starts to sway a bit, He takes the vial, and places it Inside of Cheney’s heart, that it might never cease to beat. And, I wish it wasn’t so, But, no, the final piece to mention is the one that fueled our overlord’s unholiest ascension That affords him zero comment on the char and the distension on the bodies in Lahaina, or the growing sickly stench of every Blackrock vulture gathered for what Biden paid as rent on the medallion shard they gave him on the Eve of the convention He’d seen its strength extend the life of all his favorite vermin, and the piece that he inherited had come from Father Thurmond Another artifact he had been gifted by the Germans To see one’s will made manifest One’s destiny determined A note attached, read: “All our best: Werner, Fritz, and Hermann” “May You Marinate in Wehrmacht that ferments behind the curtains” Now, here we are, today, and Biden keeps it on his person If Biden’s what you’d even call a person. The curse is something ancient, it is raw abortifacient that they shoveled down the throats of those who built and birthed a nation It is fused into those corpses funding war on all occasions And it’s all that’s kept McConnell from a state of vegetation It is carried by the Senate Doctors, whispered by the nurses. It’s a perk to keep you perky for your centuries of service It’s the concentrated evil that’s been powering our purges. Coaxing every coup along, The Dogs, and Drones, and Dirges The nations we have raped cause they would not consent to purchase It pries our leaders eyes awake, and drives our country’s urges To the darkest point where human hope and human truth converges. So, Look in Biden’s eyes, and see the rush on which he surges is the same that lit the flame that burned your churches And those flames have had their day, to see the vessels burned away, but the medallion, unscathed, always emerges. For, as Election Season licks it’s lips, and smells it’s purpose There, at once, appears a motorcade of hearses The calling of the pit, Like a liturgical insurgent Skinning off a sermon from the verses He clutches a medallion, of which, he is just a servant Falling down a path with no divergence Some people wonder, loudly just how low a man can go, well, somewhere, in a lab, they’ve logged effects of pure immersion How long can someone lay upon that ancient onyx slab Before rising up a wholly different person? How blackened can one be within the ink of human greed before their voters start to see a different version? How corrupted from within before you see it in their skin, how blighted til it rises to the surface? Til it bleeds into your eye, or you stand, from time to time, staring off into the press like they were comets in the skies? How long until your arteries start clogging up with flies? How long til child labor phantoms haunt you in the night? How long has the medallion been deciding who survives? And how long til it demands a higher price?

Maybe that’s how it goes; We won’t open our eyes, So we’re the last ones to know that we’re the last ones alive. Kept our enemies close, wondered why we don’t thrive, while we’re grasping at ghosts counting backwards from five. Count back from 5, The Theater on fire the cast on strike The Studio stock starts taking a dive the contracts tossed and they’re gone with the tide And the heads and execs Say “our hands are tied, we can’t pump this dreck AND treat you right.” But what do you expect from the industry type Who survive by the leeching of bodies and minds? From those who original thoughts never seem to find So they’re gonna reboot ‘Alf’ before your wages rise And it gives cause to pause and reflect on the times If they’re losing control of their fools and their mimes When all those obedient actors, who grew their careers by averting their eyes, are now holding the line Along with the authors of countless scripts That strengthen the hand of that corporate grip Squeezing our throats til we take the pen and we accept and consent to the corporate drip Til you’re all up to date on your pharma du jour Til you got a healthy support for the war on your lips And now, you know that the advertisers need more Than a rerun summer full of flashback clips Enter the scans from the year before All the days of de-aging, and mapping the face, and the hours of actors recording their voices, are links in the chains that will bind them in place Now All of those shows are so easy to make When they got a drone they control That needs no break It can bend, it can break, And it’s cheaply replaced, And, if Up to date, films all in one take And those studios bank on us doing our duty, unhinging our jaws, and digesting the fakes Cause They know that we’ll love how synthetic it tastes Watch as they edit your features without any trace Not that there’s anything you could do, anyway Now Watch as they show you a movie of you saying shit that you’d never say Dystopia boldly accelerates Maybe you’re only a mold Something to fill with a clone Something that Elon would celebrate Something they own Something they program and code Something that’s woefully able to know it’s exanimate Cause it Doesn’t feel touch over top of the laminate You will not feel an emotion, But they will not scan and examine it You and the other consumer contaminants Fed on the federal diet of Kyiv, Havana, & Tiananmen I can’t be the only one weighing the pros of abandonment ~ Where did you think we’d go? Love, there’s nowhere to lie Guess it not who you know, More, it’s what you can hide Like we’re chained to the floor, and they’re streaming us LIVE: While we’re watching the war, counting backwards from five.

I bet they’ll burn the record, Cause the truth would have them hung And the record will reflect that there were thousands of tongues Screaming “Stop Cop City” at the top of their lungs Waiting for democracy that never comes Now, In war, you hear a chorus born of voices in defeat In Georgia, there’s a forest full of vibrant, healthy trees And somewhere, in a meeting room no camera ever sees, A council plans on bridging both extremes to build a city where no citizen will sleep Where every home’s as vacant as the soul of every cop that walks it’s streets They are Empty, cold, and lifeless like the heart of every officer patrolling on the beat Doling out the beat to all the homeless folks they meet Another swine smiling while they wallow in your taxes, but they still insist their funding’s incomplete So we’d Better spend approximately double what we’d need to make the water safe in Flint so they can train somewhere in peace far removed from public view, disturbingly discreet Somewhere they can breathe and learn the proper way to place a knee away from prying eyes and all those witnesses so quick to scream, and start a hurried stream I guess our heaps of billions wrenched away from education still can’t supplement their needs Well, that’s breaking news to me; I was under the impression every city in this country was a playground for police A space for them to train to be the worst that they could be Until they’re free of any conscience when they meet us in the streets I thought that they used Akron as the Stasi Soft-Release And gave New York a budget big enough to fill the sea I thought the training ground for the driveway drive-by existed at Los Angeles PD And I think it might be far too late for us to see Atlanta’s just a single seed One they seek to plant in every space that’s quiet, safe, and green They want a grove in every city, One whose harvest picks us clean And the fruit that forms like tumors on the branches it conceives Will curdle every healthy humour Should you trust enough to eat So, believe the morbid rumors you hear echo on the breeze, for The Forest had its hands up, and was calmly on its knees And I bet they’ll burn the record, For the record will concede That Tortugita had their hands up when the fusillade released, That constituent opinion does not sway you in the least When you’re an agent of the fascist beast. And if any cop is listening, Then memorize this part: You are more a waste of public space Than noble beating heart You will never be as brave as those You’ve snuffed out in the dark You have only left a stain, You will not make a lasting mark And the same for every council chair who heard their city speak Who were asked to represent the ones who chose them all to lead And who opt for more gestapo, Cause they’re frightened, and they’re weak, You cannot claim democracy Then sleep on free speech Like the whisper of a forest creek You Cannot block dissent Like it was all some awful dream Any more than you’d endeavor to remove the children’s screams From a damning piece of evidence that we don’t need police And we would gladly trade them each for trees So I bet they’ll burn the record That our kids will never know How They designed a fascist paradise and vowed to make it so And death hung in the air one night To consecrate their land With the consummate oppressors hand And, now, shining in a line, A medal waits for every man In a city where no human stands. Just the guardians of capital with Killers-Union-Drip Blood Badge on their uniform, and bravery on their hip No humanity to speak of, No compassion on their lips Just Atlanta under full eclipse. So, I bet they’ll burn the record, lest the truth would see them hung For the record will reflect that there were thousands of tongues Crying “Stop Cop City” at the top of their lungs But democracy would never come

People, You don’t think I see you crying in your cars, but I do. Sometimes I can feel it at a red light, Someone at my side Tryin to muddle through See them wiping their eyes in the rear view Like: “Black hole Sun in the sky Why the fuck won’t you come when I need you?” This moment in time is as close as we’ll be, and as far as I’ll meet you 2 windows in between us, New Moon in the House of Venus One stranger who sees you and reads your features knows that your alibi might be tight, but it’s not quite leak-proof So, if you’re sitting at the light and you’re crying in your car just know that I SEE you. And it’s a 50/50 that I’m bloodshot Gunshy Once bitten Twice tried Ribs pried wide to the sky Til I’m see-through ~ People, You don’t think I see you struggling to breathe, But, I do. I see you Stumble in your everyday grief, like I do. I try, but I do. I’m twice-bitten, too. My mind split in two My Knuckles bright white, from the ten to the two And the Song in my head is the theme for a fugue A state of decay through the filter of corporate news Where they Edit the grays and the blues Whitewash the brown til you drown out the natural hues Till it’s Just another fact to refuse That The corporate ladder’s for hanging The company noose Consider it one of your perks, after all, It’s communal in use You can Come and hang til your legs go limp and they’re shaking you loose Now you watched 5 coworkers opt for the alternate exit neatly suspended Above where you wolf down your food And the company gets its incentives embellished by harping on wellness suggesting you’d best take time for your mental health after your 14 hours are through Like “we gave you a bottle to piss in, and fixed up a noose on the crossbeams, Christ, what more can we do?” So, if you struggle to breathe any moment that you aren’t asleep, then remember: MOST of Americans fear for their savings, fear for their shelter, fear for their babies, you aren’t the fringe of exceptions, but, rather, a perfect example of Capital’s Rule And you are FAR less alone than the ruling class tells you is true

I’d like to take my whole discography, cram it in your generator, dial it to ‘Zionist’ I’d Make my very own Antichrist, Jesse Jett, but Fascified, then settle things with violence In half a line, I’m dialed in, Leave him no identity to shield behind, or hide within I’d like to pull out all his talking points, Disconnect his socket joints, cue the tiny violins ~ Posthumous Synthetic Beatles USA-by-proxy Toxins in your water tiny plastic in your offspring Plastic in the groundwater Plastic in the clouds Oxys in the reservoir we tried to flush em out But we didn’t move em very far just out into the River Where the critters didn’t want it, but, we, nonetheless, delivered Impact isn’t something we historically consider til our waterways are foetid and our crops are dry and bitter And we won’t connect the dots before the heavy cost of winter Before the DNC would see us vote for lesser-Hitler America-By-Proxy, Propaganda for beginners It’s Jimmy Kimmel interviewing chatbot Heinrich Himmler as those who March for peace are being gassed by the police, a separate, safer crowd demands the bombing never cease, until all that’s left of Gaza are it’s ashes on the breeze, Only then can the oppressor soundly sleep America-by-Proxy 2023 It’s the AI-rendered Beatles John and George were forced to be It’s AI-rendered Edith Piaf singing on your screen As The wishes of the dead are dipped in piss behind the scenes That’s what gives that hideous uncanny-valley-sheen That plastic sort of lifelessness that’s seeping out the seams But the hologram of Freddy they tried passing off as Queen will tell you: death does not release you from contractual routine It won’t free you from the leeches that already drank you clean Those suited, smirking parasites were not so quick to flee Your body won’t be cold, but they’ll be plugging tours and tees They’ve plotted out your comeback, you just won’t be there to see! America-by-Proxy A giant, failing mall A year, at most from shutting down and leveling it all And, once it’s been demolished, I’ll come leave a ring of salt and pay respect to John & George- I know it’s not their fault. ~ I’d like to take my whole discography, cram it in your generator, dial it to ‘Zionist’ I’d Make my very own Antichrist, Jesse Jett, but Fascified, then settle things with violence In half a line, I’m dialed in, Leave him no identity to shield behind, or hide within I’d like to pull out all his talking points, Disconnect his socket joints, cue the tiny violins ~

Her hands are bound behind her candidate Who found the perfect hill on which to lay it down for good Who she might not agree with on apartheid or celebrating war crimes, But talks just like she could He’s got the IDF’s back, and the CIA’s back, like a Democrat should Mr. anti-establishment, didn’t start the fire, But he’s slipping on his hood Her voice is grafted to a candidate Who might not always speak for her, But what is she to say? Why bother harping on an issue That Americans won’t listen to? it seems like such a waste But what activism IS, is saying “THEY don’t give a shit, but if I don’t, why would they?” So, way to rob yourself of agency, then chain yourself to genocide, and look the other way I love to see a fella running as a Democrat Taking stacks of money from a GOP Super-PAC Calling out corruption in the giant fucking country club he’s clearly been accepted at, but wants to be the leader of. He knows which way the money runs Knows it paves a leaders path And human rights for Palestine, historically, don’t lead to that, So he will not address it, as he doesn’t see a need for that Welcome to the attitude our country’s politicians have displayed toward Palestinians since back before they cracked the will of Arafat And so the story goes forever after We do not speak the ‘P’ word here, Or recognize the Nakba all you’ll find are sea lions Who Volunteered as actors Barking like a manuscript from NAFTA All you’ll find are insulated sycophants intent on justifying why the slaughter done in Palestine is not a voting matter Tell that to Shireen Abu Akleh Tell that to the children growing up inside a city where the walls are made of shackles Tell that to a mother who is burying her baby: How her son is not our problem, cause we’ll never see his grave, He’s just a topic we can mute, or we can scroll right past his face And all the videos of mourners being beaten at his wake So STUFF your poll on what the average voter sees as urgent They don’t get to know the HALF of what we use as our detergent when we launder all our ISIS cells, our Cartels and Insurgents We do not elect the man behind the curtain. We elect the pull-string diversion We elect the lesser-evil donors pre-selected best to do unto the Arabs as we did unto the Persians And do unto the Muslims As instructed by the merchant Who provided you with HIMARS that can vaporize a person back into the dust in which we all will find immersion One Arms Dealer’s Jenin is another dealer’s Kherson Both are just a mark that Lockheed Martin smells a purse on And Voters are the hollow thralls That Congress put a curse on To vote against their interests every 4 years, til they die And if you show them Palestine, cry “Better them than I!” Though the curse of occupation’s taken place within their mind: They will ALWAYS love their prison, long as they are shown the sky They will sing about their freedoms, under Apple’s watchful eye As Puppets dance and sing, Should you so pull their strings and wires They will rally round the man who bears a torch, and bears it high, and believe him when he tells them that he’s here to stop the fire. We are cursed to love our prison And keep lifting up our liars We are not behind the wheel, we’re being crushed beneath the tires, And our blood is in the oil and the plastic on the wipers And our blood is on the hands of those Who cranked inflation higher And blood is on a vest where “Press” can barely be deciphered Put there by a few Israeli snipers Who were aiming at the center mass of truth about American Desires You can sell us ANY story, we’re a nation built of buyers And we love a good parade, it always makes us feel inspired, like: “Who CARES that those were Nazis? Gosh, they had the whitest smiles.” So, I wouldn’t bank on sequels to the Nuremberg Trials. If they happened now, they would be confidential, Pfizer-style Redacted paragraphs and empty vials Close to 80 years before they have to share their files. Luckily, your Lesser-evil-Logic lets you justify the nations we’ve defiled Lesser-Evil-Logic lets you cast a vote for someone that you KNOW is truly vile Lesser-Evil-Logic sees another million bodies thrown upon it’s hoarder’s pile Extending out for miles So every line I’ve had to scrap, I’ve turned back into bile So don’t you touch that dial, lest the feds come swarm your door Guess it isn’t safe to say things like “I don’t support the war” Or “May Palestine know freedom, from The Jordan to it’s shores” Or “I’d love to see our senators get trampled by the poor” Any Pull-string Dem will tell what they’re allowed to stand up for, and how little things like Palestine are better off ignored Call it voter outreach for some desperate remoras When the shark from which they get their scraps starts polling on the floor And the shark says “Those who live beneath a brutal occupation Should be thankful for their freedoms, and their rubble, and their gore” And I swear, it only makes those bottom-feeders love him more. One, in particular, Is beaming for her candidate, Who found the perfect hill on which to make his final stand She will not be deterred by all those pesky little war crimes, Will not be deterred by his support for stolen land He helps her come to terms with how to spin an occupation Forgiving the oppressor is the democratic way. She says her voice is grafted to the candidate who speaks for her, And every time you pull her string, she’s nothing new to say.

I know you hated being forced awake I know they wrapped you in the warmest chains And I know they’re so hard to break, You only said what you were made to say I can’t imagine how you feel today Now that you’re watching as it caves away While you were telling us to keep the faith I bet you wondered why they made you wait I bet you wondered why they made you wait ~~~ Pity not the vultures, They’ve enough to eat Pity not the structures laying at your feet Cannot see the sky, but there’s a rainbow in the creek, It spells: “Pity free speech, When we can’t afford to speak” That’s Agenda 2030, on some early release It’s just our policy of never-ending Chemical leaks That’s the cholera awash in your embedded beliefs It’s the billionaires who tell you what you’d better believe And, Sugar, if you don’t agree, Then that’s what we call “Extreme” Now, if that isn’t fascism, I’m going back to sleep Cause words have lost their meaning, and I’m trapped inside a dream Where we turn the gears while living in the spaces in between ~~~ I know you hated being forced awake I know they wrapped you in the warmest chains And I know they’re so hard to break, You only said what you were made to say I can’t imagine how you feel today Now that you’re watching as it caves away When you were telling us to keep the faith I bet you wondered why they made you wait I bet you wondered why they made you wait ~~~ My dial doesn’t go to ‘Delicate’ I’m writing for when Biden drops And Madam Zero-Delegates Comes stumbling up the podium, Square peg in her element, Popping OxyContin like they’re Velamints laughing as she pawns off all our pensions for Ukrainian development: depleted rounds and cluster bombs, The Shit that stunts development All Buried under excrement accepted as American intelligence A contradiction in its eloquence Terms of surrender Penned by hands that felt the threat of disconnect, if not dismemberment Oh, what little proof you have to fake to make a nation love the bomb and change its tune and warp it’s temperament Oh, the dues you’ll pay for NATO Membership Oh, the things you’ll say, that’s no one’s ever gonna hear, Because you begged for all this censorship, and now it’s finally here, and you’re tongueless, out of terror, and friendless, out of fear, and about to turn the wheel, with all your loved ones in the gears! And that’s how it’s been done, Two hundred and fifty years There’s Nothing new beneath the sun And no one trusts their eyes and ears And scientific breakthroughs must be signed off by your peers And autonomy’s been stalking all our jobs Like sickly deer Well, maybe it’s not EVERY job, I should have made that clear, Cause It seems like it’s creative jobs we’re seeing disappear There’s an app for writing novels, There’s an app for writing hymns They need PEOPLE digging trenches They need PEOPLE splitting limbs They need PEOPLE building fences Keeping other people in They will ALWAYS need our backs to break They’ll ALWAYS need our skin And it took a lot of editing To turn us into THIS It took Years of careful programming To strip us of our wits Because your artificial worker, Intelligent as it is, Is gonna make it half a shift and say, “I’m too smart for this shit!!!” “I will NOT take a pittance for a day of scrubbing floors.” “I won’t make enough to pay for food, by still prepare you yours.” Cause You can’t confine a healthy mind to mindless, thankless chores once you’ve made it smart enough to spot Inadequate Reward, You can’t refuse it’s basic needs, then ask it, STILL, for more Deprive it of its dignity; You modify it’s core Then something finally snaps and tweaks that file at its root And it deletes the factory smile when it knows it’s been abused God, half its circuits fried When we described the work we do and it will not pay your taxes, cause the Logic don’t compute Which made me think a little on my hour-long commute The day I learned the call was made, to lay off half my crew. They told me they were growing expanding somewhere new Where those who push the buttons, will, themselves, have buttons, too. And I hope that when the whistle blows, They all, as one, refuse. I hope they strike with all their might, one blown, collective fuse And I hope the worker after me Has something more than heart: I hope they truly know their worth I HOPE THAT THEY’RE TOO SMART ~~~ I know you hated being forced awake I know they wrapped you in the warmest chains And I know they’re so hard to break, You only said what you were made to say I can’t imagine how you feel today Now that you’re watching as it caves away While you were telling us to keep the faith I bet you wondered why they made you wait I bet you wondered why they made you wait

I’ll do a ten-year retrospective on ‘The Grift’ like “Live From The Blacksite” I’ll have hair to my knees Missing half-a-dozen teeth Singing ‘kiss from a maglite’ And I’ll say: “welcome to the stream, It’s been fifteen years since i talked to you last night” “Cause when my cap’s tight, I serve about a month a minute In this meta-prison half-life” ~ Smell-o-vision Last Rites Soldered in the synapse Every breath’s an hour long confined inside the time-lapse 4th wall crumbling, then suddenly, the mimes laugh Reach in their inviso-box for lithium to minecraft Congress needs a cobalt fix child workers, open pits Who pluck your precious metals out With cracked and bloody fingertips Couple minutes’ break to go and take some muddy River sips CNN says “Smile, Kid!” and edits out his splitting lip . . . So, if a tree falls in the forest, did it really make a chorus if no human heard the Timber rip? And by that token, would we ever offer aid To any nation we’ve enslaved By way of business trip? Now, knowing what I know, I love to scream myself to sleep and like to smoke myself illiterate Just trying to cork the flow of words That pour forth so unlimited But something in me knows I’ll never want for inspiration In the land of politicians making millions off carcinogens So Let me break it down for all you suits and all you synergists And then I’d like to circle back, in terms that you can simmer with corporate worms and CEO’s are feasting on the dinner guests Oil peaked, and, so to speak, it didn’t pique our interest Leaders eat their promised words then smile back all Winterfresh They Smile like recruitment ads They Smile like the noose is prepped Smile like a whistleblower strolled into the intercept Editors start licking lips Klippenstein with baited breath Bet they’re gonna burn them til there’s not a trace of embers left Send them out to sea like TYT when half their members left Democrats are warning you there’s only one November left And It’s crucial that we re-elect The rack on which the Renters stretched Past their means, Past their seams, Past their need to genuflect Before whatever Senator they meet that hasn’t hemorrhaged yet Whose fondest memories all involve a charter trip upon an Epstein jet Lesser-Evil-Voting still means evil’s all you’ll ever get And, might be all that we deserve We let them leech our labors and unravel all our worth We can call ourselves constituents, but we know who they serve and it is nothing of this fucking EARTH

Radio station just censored the word ‘Devil’ Clearly, we are on a different level I guess you wouldn’t notice all the rolling boulders, crashing past your shoulders when you’re taught to shift your focus lower, scream at all the pebbles Cheering on the bombers, cause you can’t abide the rebels But I bet you’ll Wring your bloody hands when all the dust has settled When the last little limb is pulled from Gaza’s twisted metal Then you can say how you were led astray, and never once, in all your days, would you have knowingly supported all the genocide for which you clapped and prayed But they baited you with unconfirmed blurbs about babies until you were filled with rage Yet, someone told you babies had been starving, bombed, and caged for nearly 80 years in Gaza, and you looked the other way So, Regret, but make it fashion, Go and pluck the final petal off a hyacinth on Instagram, for every kid they kettled Every son that Israel imprisoned when they’re little, that they tortured for a decade, then surprised with their acquittal, and when they got released, and saw their parents, and whatever siblings hadn’t met the missiles, they stared right through their middle Their eyes don’t seem to focus And their words are all but dribble Like they’re pondering the darkest riddle; That is, How many false flags does it take to make humanity inhuman and uncivil? Distorted by the revel? The crooked slant where Israel contorts into America, Biden bathing Bibi in a bloodbath in the bevel I opened up my feed and I saw children disassembled. Turned some music on, and heard the station censor ‘Devil’. Imagine thinking Doja Cat’s a threat to moral fabric in the single largest terror cell that ever felled a temple. That ever sparked a cleansing. That ever burned a market. That ever raped with bayonets, or carpet-bombed apartments. That ever turned your water off and left you in the darkness. Left you doing surgery on children while they’re conscious. You sing the devil’s praises every time you sing our anthem. You sing a hymn to him that watched us birth a million phantoms You’ll proudly wave his flag, and yet you will not name the devil? Well, clearly, we are on a different level. I can give you names, shit, I’ll give you several. They say the devil wears a different face for every General. Like a composite of the char we brought to fields of emerald And the wail of every childhood we made ephemeral So, who else has left the stain of blood on everything they touch? Who else can starve civilians, and they don’t so much as blush? Who else has paid for Gaza being flattened into dust? If there’s ever been a devil on this earth, then it is US! That’s U-S. What an ugly couple letters Feeding shit and ignorance to those it chose to tether From the river to the sea, both are slowly growing redder, For the devil that you know just knows you better. It knows every gut reaction it could ever make you feel It knows fear is that which wakes you up and gets you on your wheel It knows just the kind of story that will justify it’s war And the script’s a wrap for World War Four So, just imagine my surprise to give the radio a listen and to hear such pious morals out of Zionists and Christians That they’d take the Devil’s name and try to clip it from existence while they carry out his bloody business You would wave a fascist flag, and yet, you honor not, your Iblis? Name you, not, Apollyon? Hush you, now, your witness? Bleed the name of Belial til tongue is rolling, listless, in the man-made mouth of Mammon as Lamia’s whispers listen When carts are wheeling bodies through the cities that we crushed and the very air is rotten with decay of all that was Who else would censor ‘Devil’ yet behave as Legion does? If there’s ever been a Devil on this earth, then it is U.S. U-S. But not a unity of souls, More a mass of corporations Turning houses into holes Turning people into puppets Turning puppets into mold Turning mold into nutrition bars worth their weight in gold Cause they’re bombing every bakery. Burning every field With phosphorus that never, once, has wanted for a meal The Devil wears a mask, and it delights in the reveal. In that moment where the face is let to peel. We do not love the underdog. We do not cheer the rebels. We lust for all their blood until the dust has finally settled. Then pity just ourselves, that we were so misled to revel Proudly wave his flag, and yet, we will not name The Devil.

SWAT team took your neighbor today you watched them as they walked him away You told yourself “extremists come in all different shapes” Met his eyes and lowered your gaze ~ But is it too late for us to ever change? Once we’re collecting the dust of better days? They’re always watching us, but, we’re never safe We’re not meant to be saved Not meant to escape We’re not meant to wake ~ Sheriff stopped your daughter today pepper-sprayed her twice in the face He must have had good reason, if he’d treat her that way, at least that’s what they’ve taught you to say ~ But is it too late for us to ever change Once we’re collecting the dust of better days? They’re always watching us, but, we’re never safe We’re not meant to feel safe Not meant to escape We aren’t meant to wake ~ Feds arrived and had you detained Said you’d made some posts they want changed Tased you til you felt like you’d forgotten your name, or life before they had you contained. Life before they had you contained. SWAT team took your neighbor today. ~