What a fascist faction of government this repugnant republic is.
What swill it utters.
What repulsive stills it festers.
Swishing a swaying the suffering people, lying in the gutters.
The swines. Faces fat in the sewer with faltering lies,
Buzzing with fecal flies.
What false promises it proposes.
What a sad and lonely, pathetic little monarch we are.
Masking ourselves as some other people,
We killed those soldiers, and burned those steeples.
We threw those books in the fires.
We the liars, the enemy, the arson.
We the teacher, doctor, and parson.
What horrible, deceiving, monsters we are.
Salted fruits and ashed meats,
Suckling from our own soured tits.
We dine on tainted ideals of anthropophiles,
and all the while, we are those people.
"Hypocrisy" I shudder.
If those things living in your masks want change, then beckon it.
It's unbecoming of them to abstain their reckoning.
They're wrecking themselves to hide, and it's sickening
It's demeaning to lose meaning in fake skins, and it's grotesque.
In our maw, we gnash our teeth bloody in protest to our voices.
And what choices do we have but to listen,
where our ears have been pried open by neighbors,
and our pride ripped open by labors,
and we're weak and vulnerable and raw?
We cuss and throw ourselves through mirrors to fight for our better selves,
Shielding our eyes, we dive and crash through the glass
and we're dragging ourselves with us.
We're cutting and bleeding, into ourselves…
What a foolish, arrogant, blind people we are.