|
If I knew for sure that |
|
I had a soul |
|
I'd sell it right now for the chance to experience |
|
Mother Earth's last gasp before she sinks into a perpetual episode of life support |
|
Clung to hope as the bastards of complacency and decent stand over us |
|
Carved from human bone by human bone |
|
Carved from human bone by human bone |
|
The magic wand of oppression waves above and occasionally bounces from skull to skull |
|
She's become the pig on the spit |
|
Salvation stuffed into her mouth like a rotted green apple |
|
We, the eager ants, wait below her and bask in her dripping fat |
|
No more audience |
|
No more audience |
|
Warm breath rises |
|
Boiled fat falls |
