The culture of vanity
Paternal will projections
One more drop of fame
Because we let it fall
Proud crowds praise
For future narcissism
Can say “I was there”
When we ignore issues
And focus on ourselves
Racist motivations
Bourgeois intentions
Freedom calls to us
From the depths of hell
Outside of human irrationality
Easily wrenched by the nameless
And we try to pass blame
One of our own the culprit
To end would mean despotism
And to be unfree again
Next up to plate
Another innocent society
Consumed with a morbid gait
Consuming sans sobriety
Cultural wasteland wake
Too much to abate
For if their luxuries you take
Find yourself next to plate
Seated in chairs made of gold
Upon monuments their parents built
Ears burn at discontent’s sound
From those who dare demand better
When, from the streets the poor demand more
In tallest towers they can only look down
Tell the weak everything is alright
Tell them it’s a worthless fight to fight
And to carry on into the night
But we’ve seen this all before
They’ll be, one day, at the door
To throw them from the thousandth floor
And they’ll be content no more
Contentment, they thought,
Was enough for the poor
Mystified morning
Of shock and terror, fire and death
We hang down our heads
Blame each other and tear down freedom
Where once great men stood
Their children reduced themselves to crawl
While they walk away
The dangerous who wrought their ruin
Gloat that their man triumphed
Peace of mind louder than reality
Who will they champion next
When there is only one left?
In a world with but one master
Everyone is his servant
She takes three breaths
Slow and measured full
Tries to contain the anger
But the demons keep the pull
This pork on the table
Is evil’s very label
It makes it so she’s able
To live life unstable
Offers to dispose of it
But won’t offer to replace
Her intentions are uncaring
Because she’s a sad disgrace
These gestures on the set
Won’t let her mind to rest
Reminds her of regret
Her life’s sad silhouette
Wants to be forever rid
Offers to legislate
Remove parts of our culture
All she does is frustrate
All she can do is take
She will never create
The colors makes her ache
Burning America in her wake
The children are held too long as to not get hurt
So that every generation is more protected and sheltered than the last
The ones that slip by and awaken from mind control
Break free to rethink the limits of mankind, free from the ignorance of their peers
The ones afraid to go too far, afraid to be great
Live forever in animalistic darkness, procreating with a fierce vengeance
To get back at those they shun and try to forget
In the shadow of giants
Those who stood tall and moved mountains
Scavengers feed on their heels
Rending flesh to bone where titans missed
Nothing left to savor
Forcing future souls to roll in their shit
Every ancient ceremony
Where the old and dusty dance and play
One steps too far out of line
Crush their backs below them and bring their skin to flay
Wild wanton “Why not?”’s
Once before death, something older every day
Makes us fret tomorrow
Wearing these dusty old jackets in the name of yesterday