|
The voices clash and debate |
|
So many wrongs to right |
|
Their bleeding heats flow never-ending |
|
(Like their appetites) |
|
"Left" on a front line they can't defend |
|
(Why try to pretend?) |
|
Spouting invectives |
|
One way directives |
|
Sleep well, night-watchman |
|
(Privilege has its own objectives) |
|
Blind ambitions |
|
Death processions |
|
Selling our tragedies |
|
(Emotional pornography redeemed) |
|
Partisans, wake the world to sorrow |
|
Pantagruels, rouse your buried woe |
|
Partisans, face your black tomorrow |
|
Swans songs from death's throat |
|
Boiling in a plight of circumstance, dismayed |
|
Running off when raging seas get rough to save themselves |
|
We all know this ship is sinking fast |
|
The Captain's on his own |
|
The devil's die is cast, for Eschaton |
|
You fuel the problems you profess to solve... |
|
Our weary world embedded |
|
With avarice and vice |
|
Like insects locked in amber, |
|
They're corpses locked in ice |
|
With silence their companion |
|
And death their destination |
|
They tread, slogging onward, |
|
Callously unchanged |
