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....