We are the chattel
the absurd machines
we’re stupid and fat
we should be cunning and lean
the enemy confounds
with the news of the day
to keep us divided
looking all the wrong ways
we’re blaming the left
and hating the right
while the fist of the archons
rules well out of sight
a shadowy hand
clasped firm round our necks
to fill us with fear
and drain us of breath
we fight for the wrongs
and lose sight of the rights
we’re stumbling blind
while their grip grows more tight
politics is the poison
they slip into our glass
they distract us with parties
and divide us by class
they strip us of faith
and mock the divine
keep you fixed on your mirror
chanting “I, me, mine”
These narcissistic pursuits
are so weak and so odd
instead of serving false masters
you should be serving your God