You Know the Song
you know the song
beliefs made obsolete through years of corruption
folded in the napkin used to wipe your mouth
the drool obscuring the words of many
who sought to stamp out the oppressive reign
with a sick devotion to the end of the world
and a sad condition to have a coughing spell
the days become listless and full of grey
but you know the song, oh you know the song....
a dance made ugly by a dusty sun of black and mold
taped together with the used up plastic of yesterday
the cold eye of a tyrant looks up at a bloody moon
oh he surely forgets to drink the last of his wine
the people who have long suffered abhor a lack of freedom
still they cut the chains of remorse with dull knives
wishing the dictatorship were made of soft butter
but you know the song, oh you know the song....
chances are humanity forgot that it has a voice
when the voices of the few can rise above the voices of many
and trap the innocent in a room for fumigation
and the subjugation just doesn't end there
yet the sad view to seek out the pages of yesterday
instead of seeking refuge in the ideology of tomorrow
means time is trapped in a sadistic stasis
but you know the song, oh you know the song....
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