From the Cradle To the Knave
I fear that
We are losing this race
To remove the cyst
From the heart
Of this dark leader
The daily tales
Of erect simian see simian do
And words that undo
The voices of maiden tales
To ears that fail
And again to this house
We elect
What below the belt
Is the prime suspect
As the vessels of life
Bring forth the strife
We funnel our paychecks
Into coffers of silence
And spin the survivors
Like bottles at a party
The loudest voice heard
In this media circus
Is the ringmaster
To his trove of devotees
Unable to rise from their knees
He speaks and with them agrees
To support the part of sin
That no one sees
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