Lazy Boys Platoon - 2011/07/25

Something wicked this way comes
The chill on our spine at night
Fostered by pseudo pious people
All who refused to set it right
Guided by tenets of pure greed
Bent on bathing in their blood
This drought of the modern age
Will be set right with a flood

It is the antithesis of deities
Masters of the moral disconnect
Only through great forcefulness
Shall we topple idols now erect
Nay I speak of no golden calves
For the riches have been stolen
From us the distraction addicts
Our remains so dead and swollen

So here we lay in the recliners
Getting high off the multimedia
Unwilling to debate perspective
For it interferes with dementia
Shall we rise simply to survive
Or die enveloped in the comfort
If no fire burns in our bellies
Can there even be a last resort

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