Our Devolution Is Televised

We’re in possession
Of reaper’s sleep
It’s nothing for any of us to speak
Our Spineless leaders
Oops I mean cheaters
Hide behind illegal policies
They’ve sold out millions fueled by all of our blood
People die for knowing things like this
You could as well
We are our own hell
Can’t you feel it?
Can’t you feel the lock down?
These pins and needles
That swiftly cut off any chance we ever had to live
That dollar’s poison
It’s job is prison
And in between is nothing fit to give
So stand and shake your leg of sleep of
It’s rotting, it’s gangrenous and raw
Yes yours as well you can’t avoid that smell
Can’t you smell it?
Can’t you smell the lock down?
So what’s this fear for?
A common detour
Like life is anything but short
Impulsive devolve with deadly resolve
Paranoia rushing through your veins
In search of vengeance there is often just myth
And myth is nothing more than tale
So racist retort and corporate bloodsport
Lock down and frame your kin!