This is the home of the brave
This is the land of the free

One was foreclosed in ‘08
One was condemned in ‘16

One day soon, when it’s all torn down
And the new world anthem erupts from the ground in the choir of terrible sounds coming out of the studio audience trapped in the rubble beneath,

We’ll see that theirs is a river that runs through the streets.

Theirs is a river that ought to have brought us all up to our feet, and off of our knees

But Who’d have imagined the sound of it flowing would hit your ears like a peaceful creek
and just ease you to peaceful sleep?

So that you don’t see that the news you read, is just parroting a narrative,
A new world American imperative
That you believe whatever the police believe
That you speak less English and more in the vein of a CIA press release.

If the rest is dissent,
then the rest will cease.

I wish I could put you to rest and say,
“Honey, it’s all been a dream.”

But this was a test,
And the lesson was the better learned less within the breach, than the observance.

If the rest is dissent, it will no doubt be met by a heavy military service.

So starts the war between ruling class fascists and their wage-starved servants.

That’s my time, here’s a tape marked ‘urgent’
you can take back to the surface.

Now, go and tell our masters that it’s time for them to serve us.

Time for them to finally serve their purpose.

And if that makes them nervous then it’s only cause they know that they deserve it.

For building back the wall and all their recent talk of iron curtains.

For funneling us all into the shelters or the missing persons

Cause God Forbid they open up their coffers or their purses

They’ll only spring for coffins if you fill an application out and they decide you’re worth it.

And actually, you foot the bill,
They’ll pay you back,
They swear they will,
I mean,
do you recall a time the US government had lied or changed their minds regarding something crucial like a treaty or a reimbursement?

You really think this country can’t afford a decent plastic surgeon?

And urge you right along so you can’t spot a single flaw in all the newest versions?

Our leaders wash their image and their money in the same detergent

And bathe in all our data like the blood of virgins

And over the horizon howls a horrifying giant who once performed the rites of merging Sprint, and Virgin,
and who heralds now, the sacrifice of Sprint to feed Verizon.

It’s always open season in the corporate sense and we’re the severed heads that will adorn the fence around the mandatory fair where we will be, concurrently, the ones who buy the tickets to the circus, and the useless prizes.

Torture wears such fair disguises.