Thick as thieves we were, thinned from the thicket

Floating on a flotilla of plastic down the River Styx

Tossing Dentabone’s to Cerberus as we held our palms high

We didn’t beg for forgiveness, we gave into Wal*Mart and Wall Street


Our Big Bang was less than whimper— More like a whisper.

Hush the tanks are coming.

The tanks are coming.


Our oiled war machines are T-1000s in the shadows

Glowing eyes, winking to McDonald’s ball pit children

A hare’s breath away from making a glass desert

Dollar sundaes at the Golden Arches for all the good little boys and girls


We have become the ghosts of revolutionaries and innovators

Muskets long traded in for an H2 and a Zune

Classless brutes who bitch about the classes

A council of kings and circle jerk aficionados


The Serpent God-King demands our obedience

We oblige, because our mouthes are full

Dripping from self righteousness and indulgence

We Nazi salute because America doesn’t kneel


We sail the very last river with a Rebel flag held high

For not only have we filled its shores with Miracle Whip

We traded in our heritage to the devil for a collar

Now with palms held high…

….the three-headed beast satisfied

….and no where left to invade

We chain ourselves to this eternal post— Panting for pennies


We never knelt before God, so why not become Beezlebub’s lap dog?

After all…this is America’s legacy.


We can.

A one-eyed Jack playin’ his to hand to a King of the Commons isvmerely a meek pirate seeking a six-shooter to avenge his mundane life.  The man tips his yellow hat to the bellhop signaling for change.  The bellhop stands atop his soapbox, caged and afraid lookin’ for the wet monkey while the man in the yellow cap crosses the threshold to foreclose.  Who is that he shouts!?  Is it the sound of the collapsing government, the collapsing dream of America, the collapse of an empire?  Who’ll strike back if the bouncer’s been shot by a one-eyed pirate king?  We the rebels; that is who.  We don’t need a doctor we need healthcare.  Obama can’t burn Congress to the ground, but Congress can sure burn the white house to the ground.  Raze for it penny, sell the land for a grand.  As long as the American people get hurt those old white bastards will reap the benefits till they hang for their anarchy.  Watch their constituents burn them at the stake while deregulated business sponsors the event.  The people will pour and shout into the stadium with posters of a grinning Reagan hoping to hear the tortured screams of a corrupt Congressman.  They have no qualms warring with the world at their own behest, but do they have the balls to war with the people?  Who gave them the seat of power, who wiped their asses when their second term rolled around, who gave them the suit?  We did.  Who can take it away?  We can.

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