Heavy Metal Crocodile
Politics has swallowed his laughter and smile.
He's become deaf to any other point of view.
Head-banging like a heavy-metal crocodile.
While stroking a harp from his pristine pew.
His bitterness is like a pissed-off tarantula.
Fangs raised high above star-spangled heads.
Of those with a different colored mantra.
He labels all of them "the living dead".
In another time and circumstance,
we could have become best friends.
But his demon has always been politics.
That head demon never-never rests.
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