The incandescent dark blinds the tiny mole of hope
whose whiskers were chopped off by the old man Roanoke
for when his time came round
he knew right how to take one down
it was a gutless shameless tyranny
performed without a frown
They screamed it was a mess, the bloody chaos that ensued
't was not his war to fight, 'though kill freedom he did do
and when it was all over, man
the smell of fear forever ran
over hills and through the seas of crystal, raw
Haunted incarnations of some past life cruel temptations
speak out loud, words of wisdom – listen up!
the view of more and more of the same
is exactly like what it sounds, again
an endless repetition – say no more!
Worse than pain is knowing it will come,
and come again
disguised as blueish rain, so pretty, deadly too
and all the while the species go about their daily feces
always confusing friends with enemies of moral
such is life that children like the space between what's wrong and right
and over time that ain't gonna change a bit