Socio-Political Perspective

Tales rerun like a back flash seat pass
Tick the tock; beat the clock before it stops
Rewind, replay, and slow dance the moment of our darkest day
Blue Skyy sips malignant, In acid painted delusional trips
Birthing bastard parasitical adolescence from self-effacing hips
Adultery seeps from Bush’s loins, twisted distractions within sight
Of fornication’s against biblical rights
He did, she did merry go, here we go-rounds
Reified mendacious law abides, in a silent queue, citizens lie
straight beneath the pipes, and we’ve lost the fight
Wars picket political angst, Saddom down, another round
“Crawling backwards and watch our world collapse in crackerjacks through cataracts.
A cataclysmic, ectoplasmic burst of happy gas.”
One by one like solders we fall in the debris of a bathroom stall
Reguratated to shit and there still we sit
Watching, waiting, it’s circulating
the anticipating, to become pure white in some flare of religious light
Will your savior redeem if you believe, healing the sin like hemorrhoidal cream?
Media propaganda plagues with Big Brother agenda
Nihilistic ignorance falls in the clutch of a welfare statistic
Proverbial ladders, left to rust, take the elevator with indolent lust
Under educate our young scholars, for arrogant geriatrics own the tarnished silver dollars
Greed is the seed grown from the collective
Primitive arrogance of sophomoric intellect, devoid of sense or need for love
Lacking any semblance of imagination, the word "forgiveness" was left out of our vocations.
Another year, another fear, countries tower down
Face first in the dirt, who shall regain the crown?
"Who’s better than who" mocks the president and his shrews, as one by one we all fall
Under the changing letters of the law, twist it to fit, is the call of the false prophets politick
One by one we run and hide behind they vial of societies lie
Leaders of today follow tomorrow lingering in sorrow of what was lost
Still freedom comes at a cost, though, is it a thing of the past
with restrictions preventing us to do this or do that?
Just because we fight for what society says is right, doesn’t mean we still are not puppets
Tied by the strings, hung from the seam of our constational point of view
And as our lungs breathe their last, our future repeats the past