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Cyclops 329
A dark mind an idea the
Never ever ending hundred thoughts
The crap that fills my nation the frightened and angry
Citizens who gather at the casement
Who wave the flag and fill their wives
With industrial license they get
What they deserve, a
A rubber horse and a gallon blood.
Their flabbyasses and blind children
They have no name but will take
Whatever they are given
And let themselves be led into the
Yard for flogging until they
Confess and trade religions
Filled with jesus gone to Ireland
Blazing telling gathered in the sickroom
Of the nation, crazed and speaking about some plan
Swindling the only faithful while the rest of us
Go down the tubes.
Will you know me when I am gone?
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