2011/06/09

Regicide - 2011/06/09

I have my sawed off shotgun
Mounted with a hair trigger
Pointed at a mad television
To preserve priceless vigor
With a remote I have buried
In a local garbage landfill
The channel does not change
But the shit spews on still

Lots of voices so few words
Serious or not thats a joke
I tried to root out quality
And determined it was broke
People ask me about the gun
Well of course it is loaded
As I would not feel too sad
If that television exploded

So maybe this time tomorrow
I should break this routine
By no longer abiding idiots
That infest the flat screen
Yet when I refuse to listen
Will I recall how to ponder
Or will I see that my brain
Is but a trinket squandered

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