We Can't Hear It Anymore…
We can’t hear it anymore,
We must’ve built resistance.
To the stomp of boots on human heads,
And the path of least resistance.
To the whining of the feral beat,
Maligned in its persistence.
But driven on by voting hordes;
The Devil and Assistants.
But we can’t hear it anymore,
For ignorance persists.
To settle down afore The Screen,
And sink into Abyss.
Where Oil flows, through Russian Pipes,
From Downtown Beirut dust,
To clog the air and fill the banks,
Of those on the side of Us.
But still no March, and still no Siege,
And still a world of make believe.
Bereft a pressing urgency,
To explain the surge in Search & Seize.
The accumulations of Bankers Fees,
And the making of money from the paper of trees.
The smell of the Blood on the Santa Fe breeze,
And the lies and deceit and the signs of disease.