You spy the many shiny things
Along the road to you-know-where.
The whistle of the wind who stings
The stench of burning flesh and hair.
The numbers prove you must be rich!
Why care about the starving child?
Why care for homeless vets in ditch?
Why care if kids are raped, defiled?
The liars all have puffin lips.
Their hair is long; drops straight and gold.
They glare at you with hands on hips;
The lies they spew are eons old.
And yet within your heart of hearts
You feel a teeny prick of guilt.
Your cure is caress their farts.
And lap the floor for blood they’ve spilt.
Just get along and sing their song
Of hatred, lies, and “I-Not-See”!
The rights they wrong to get along;
The stench of their autocracy.
The stench of their autocracy
The stink of dead democracy.
Then wash with white theocracy.
While Coward leads the cowardly.
You thought you’d gain more shiny things
Along that road to you know where.
Instead you kiss their slimy rings
And wash their dirty underwear.
You help to squelch the good and true
Your soul’s a bridge that you have burned.
Betraying true Red, White, and Blue.
A place in hell is all you’ve earned.
The stench of sick autocracy:
It bathes your brain eternally.
You coddled cancer; pay the price.
A gram of courage would’ve been nice.
But you’re too late now.
You’re just another cow—
Another slice of steak,
For Conmen to take.
petersironwood 