A Griot's Global Prophecy

What do think they are doing Calling young and unsuspected children Eager to please And break glass ceilings To shake the trees of old taboos From the lap of colleges The subterfuge of lives sparkles In the eyes deprived Of commercial baubles, and conditioned to lust At every auction of consummerism disgust They bring them chained by the dream And forged of them an invisible army That can plunder and kill Marketing subtle seductions of the will? They know what they are doing Always patterning the chamelon's plan Using the background Of material necessity's to fool the eyes One side of snow white's apple Is poison in disguise You can bite this imperial seduction And not see villages in dissolution Old ways ridiculed and demonized While all social bonds fall apart You cannot hunger for the fruits autumn Without the vanity of gold In leaves, and then the dying brown of fall. So city's with short skirts will call With sweet perfumes that taste like gall. You better understand what they are doing Selling us mirages of proximity In little boxes that glow electronically All the globe is gathered in a grain of sand Reality reduced to an electron dancing in silicon And we from our virtual prisons Wander into strange worlds of unknown others Chained by fears invented in news Lost of God, lost of human civility The Orwellian thing triumphant of last And bitter tears bleating In the salt pits of anomie Colonial shackles clanking on the dream. O this griot now have told the coming hell The crack is widening in liberty's bell.