its been awhile since these battered blues saw through the truth

of what pauses in the mirror in the

decomposing frontward halls

of an intensifying glare

the mare she raised was no good, shoot her through the head right now 

burn her with the barn

sell off all her assets

erase her past

her future

rape her present

stare into the beast of

who i once was

so shifted

so skewed

mustn't we take out his eyes

we must see what he sees

we must drown what he drowns in the chlorine pool

of an American dream

now strung out on money 

as the population has done

since time

before that time

tick tock

before this design

millions before the language

spit in these rhymes

stop.

is it really such a substandard fee

for the price of heaven and the good life?

oh see,

disagree

fuck you

look now

i dont

want

no more

lip

oh take a sip off

how i feed off the blood of the degree

of the debt of the common man

sink your teeth in and taste the carnage

oh the sinews

like minnows

swimming through the decay of

my rotting teeth

oooooh

the taste of the baggage

i carry to burden myself

fuck atlas

i sit crying in the dark with all that's been

left to the swirling steam of the peeling shower walls

calling owners to shut off the main line

the tenets don't want to pay the bills

they want to grind at the clubs

they want to do extraneous drugs

get lost in the rhythm of

this same old repetitive dub

the kind of design i have come to expect

from the suburban hub

the decomposing corpse of the American body public

unjust

it's some kind of pubic hair

all overgrown and grey

so much so

it's falling to the floor

it's a bird's nest

where the egg rests nicely

the babies weep

while each splatters

to the pavement

see they brains

suicide bombers

40 million virgins

Warlike Yankee surgeons

with only deicide on feeble minds

we are all crafty little gods aren't we? 

off by our side

the dog is laughing hysterically

the cat still sleeping

narcolepsy

and we were never right

despite any absolute truth to be found

in absolute fallacy

of the tiny angles of triangles,

sound logic of course,

who wont think

who dont think

what dont sink

ever to  shift

ever more ergodic 

ever more a reasonable place

for sustainable

economic growth

we can only hope that in the coast

of this most coveted space

we seem to take the ignorant and blind

give them super powers

let them design the times

but couldn't we also give them many bee stings

see their autoimmunity

spontaneously combust

what are you suggesting in ultra violence?

a solution

a dissolution of disassociation

allowing some false sense of liberty to ring out loud

to do the stipulations of this life of the called

of these that speak to God

give him my greetings

he is not of my world

he does not control my destiny

he does not love

he does not covet

he exists

let them read this allow

let they themselves masturbate to their names

in the papers

reaching climax

let them orgasm to the cross

let them play the prophet

let them bring us the truth

where there is nothing to be found

of what's done is done

always speaking to animals

in the common tongue

always drawing spectacles

in the setting sun

such a the linguistic undertaking

necessarily lead

to the chosen dove

fly away

to he

i am hiding under his pistol,

i am rising with her sun  

overshadowing our moon

 

i am cowering in the corners

i am running away

i am a man looking over his shoulder

i am a man screaming at the top of his lungs

in the shell shocked car

pleading to an empty vacant jury

the lawyer, the bitch

she does not hurry

i find her cracked out

snorting lines 

spewing something to me

in wretched policies

legalese

absurdities

mumbling

gagging

shooting pills

smoking seeds

cutting her wrists

bleeding dreams

her veins were varicose

she was craving smack

no matter

the amount of wretched

diseased

and shriveled

penises

of local gangland

grinding her soul

to bits

a confetti storm

but the road was not long enough

not enough terrain

to carry their pain

 

however the screams

 

the night

was not

short

enough

 

geppettoGESTAPO is a progressive electronic, hip hop outfit hailing from San Francisco, Los Angeles, Flagstaff, and Dallas.  

It is a production project no longer bound by city or state lines as much of music seems to be going, and we are taking advantage of this eruption of technology.  

The idea for a promotional podcast and video became apparent as the methods of how music and idea distribution has changed.  A completely different organism.  No longer bound by record companies and technology allowing artists to run rampant, we have accepted that to truly unleash our vision and music upon the world, we need the world to know who we are or what we are about . . . and it must be viral.  We decided a visual accompaniment to our story was of the utmost importance.  

In the story of geppettoGESTAPO, two brothers, Glom and Glame, exist in another possible dimension of Earth where Bela Lugosi, famed B-horror monster movie star is God.  Through their discovery of his meddling in world affairs that ultimately lead to their father's passing, they decide to use music and art to drive him insane, but it is across space and time, behind a black hole deep in the universe, where Bela Lugosi actually resides.  He lives in a purgatory, a warehouse full of dioramas, shoeboxes that are each a window into the lives of humanity.  The video is essentially a means to further this story and show the artistic versatility of our project.  It will be very dark, mysterious, shadowy visual accompaniment, asking the viewer to lean in and discover what lies behind the words of its deity, Bela Lugosi. 

The video will utilize an address by Bela to Earth recorded by voice actor, Adam Tunney.  In it, the words describe the actual reality of the world, the universal mystery of its chaos, indifferent to humanity, an absurd world of laws and regulations, pure facades to the dismal reality that resides behind the smoke and mirrors of religious doctrines of every cultural origin. The video will convey these ideas.  There are two aspects to this video.  The story and the abstract.

Half of the video shows Bela Lugosi's purgatory prison in a black hole of space, utilizing the diorama to amuse and affect the lives of its inhabitants.  The other half will show the realities of the world, its chaos, and use visual art to accentuate the message.  

We open as an elevator is arriving to its destination, it is old and worn.  As the doors open, we see complete blackness except in the far distance.  We see candles.  The camera swoops forward to the scene.  Shot as a piece of art, it is the man and woman who flew across space to create the Earth; the first individuals to carry on the human species from an alien world, an alternate Earth, or so our story goes.  Bela sits between them in his throne, staring into the darkness, the camera like examining a strange creature.  Candles surround them all.  A fog permeates around them.  We then switch to Bela staring into the camera, his entire face fills the fram. Utilizing a snoop and a beam of light to highlight only his face, we wish to reproduce old style camera tricks, no neck or body or background in the shot, like an interrogation.  During the video, it will switch from a white light to various filters of color.  

We then use very minimalistic camera styles and switch to Bela Lugosi in a cold, concrete or warehouse room.  In this purgatory, there are walls and millions of dioramas, means for him to observe Earth and pass the time.  In and out of focus, the camera moves towards Bela as removes two dioramas and sets them down on a table.  We see him lift the top of them. We see lights or stars hanging from the lid.  The shoebox is black inside.  The man & woman from the opening is in there.  He and She are standing alone.  She is holding one half of a map, he the other .  It is a map to humanity's salvation, to preserve humanity if God aka Mr. Lugosi decides to hit the reset button.  The camera circles around Bela.  He puts the top back on and begins to look inside the insanely decorated shoebox.  

We move to the other half of the video.  Swirling fog, the tides of the Pacific moving backward, crawling worms, suburban sprawl and unused highway, lights and lights and more lights.   Switching to Bela Lugosi looking in the  camera and face highlighted like Gene Wilder as the infamous Willy Wonka.  He speaks and we switch between these various observations of the real world, edited via fast forwarding, moving through the inner cities of San Francisco, the tenderloin and all its destructive qualities on full display in the height of wealth.

The video will then give the same visual metaphor as the Cremaster cycle.  No explanation, only words, music, and a flickering candle in the distance.  We will then send it out among the blogosphere, further our artistic chops together, and create buzz for the artist.

 

 

 

Video Podcast

NOTE: Everything in bold can be deleted to shorten length.

Hello, People of Earth,

Can you hear the indifferent bravado of this voice of villainy,
just look over your shoulder as if walking down a shadowy alley,
do you know this voice?
Have you heard it stargazing, maybe whispering something bleak? Universal?
Can you see it through these infinitely, dark pupils into the multi-verse of no reason?
(delete) See him.

It is a green dragon,
fallen off the wagon,
drunk and weeping stories to distracted hearts.

Don't listen to his blubbering.
He only tells lies.

(delete)

Frankly, we are only here to decay,
as a deity and master,
you will hear me say it,
at last I will say this with the fiery vigilance it deserves,
like a spirit filling to the brim until surface tension may break and go ebbing over,

as I (pause)
am only the everlasting eye,
I am the eye with which to stare down
unveiling a strange sense of dread,
angels falling around lifeless nodding heads,
As I said and am saying,
I am all that can or will ever be
I am the red serpent diving through the tides of a black, bloody sea,
lost in the fog stumbling in its mist mourning reason, wanting only to believe.
(delete)

where you and I, him and we,
crawled up from the bubbling chemicals of a nascent reef,
fat pigs passed out at the table, gluttonous with greed,
we, left upon the shores with our eyes to the heavens
just for a minute wouldn't you like to see?
yearning to know what lies behind the blackened sky, believe
it's the moon's dawn moving and soothing the waves over evolving creatures,
walking first upon the shores with a nose for the answers and reasons,
we, the constant tweaking of an electrical nervous network,
waiting only to awaken to the truth of the changing seasons.

In actuality, this all lies in the bedrooms of a massive multidimensional prison,
hidden between several galaxies, originating in red matter, beyond a gaping black hole.

This broadcast has traveled many thousands of light years to reach you.

(delete)
from where i am speaking to you now.
I am captive, in a prisoner forever. My only mission is to decision your existence. Though captive, i am free to be whatever it is my heart wishes to learn or become, through your sons and daughters i live as a dream,
across the many dimensions of space and time,
i wonder your collapses,
your civilization,
history is merely a transient theme.

You will end up here yourselves,
it is where you will go when you close those mammalian eye lids,
when the chest stops rising,
the heart stops beating,
and the blood slows its pace, and it sits in a tide pool.
in the rocks there, hidden behind the cracks,
creatures are there.
creatures of a great moving tide of time,
of molecules and atoms, moving,
never created,
never destroyed,
i am the red robotic eyes of a living sci-fi toy.
i rust in its robotic waters,
the salt is corrosive,
moving and drying the spirit of life 
trying to soon discover

(delete)

this is where you appear when you die,
you are handed strings,
with the power to pull them,
the power to lure them,
in from one of the millions of trillions of basic possibilities that exist within you and I and beyond.

I was born on a fateful night after conspiring to cease respiring, in the interest of an infinity of time, I designed my own dimensional habitat and called it humanity, and i am here, and the galactus is there.
and if you dare, then he will awaken.
oh, will he awaken . . .
with a combustible ball of fire
with burning nuclear atoms,
splitting and becoming
such menacing, penetrating
beady, emerald eyes.

but do not be afraid,
this message is forever.

it is otherwise encoded in your genetic DNA,
to replay in REM,
marking you as him, a part of me
and it will play again and again
in the futility of your moments,
as i am the burning skyscrapers of city populations,
i am the disease unleashed upon your children,
i am there now,
i watch you while you sleep.

And so, here i am from the sixth dimension of space,
you should know me by my name only . . . 

I am Bela Lugosi
and I know thee, well.
i know that a geppetto gestapo is out there, living amongst you, pushing you to the edges of an unimaginable hell,

and i will find you,
band of rebels,
the weeping green dragon who fell,

this is only the beginning
of a hastening rapid ending,

I say

farewell.

The video is ideally a means to introduce the true vision of gG and the song itself is a direct part of the storyline behind our concept and record.  

BACKSTORY:

Glom & Glame.  Two brothers.  Same Father.  Different Mothers.  Born at the same time.  United by their father's early passing.  Stuck in the vast sprawl of residential homes, trailer parks, but enjoying the simple life in Oklahoma.  That is until they start to reformulate themselves, and they stumble upon their destiny while out and about in the middle of the woods.  it is the summer.  they are 16. it is a  cloudy day. 
 they always heard the story of the abandoned cabin out in the back of the woods.  A large radio tower near by.  this was the cabin where their mothers gave birth and Earth was addressed by its God. their birth was insignificant.  it was a random chaos at its finest. only mistakes.  unlimited choices.  and yet destiny was upon them.  they were two half brothers born into a sea of electricity one fateful night, fire the ground to the sky, sizzled trees, the cabin singed, and a face looming in the clouds.  a vision.  a message delivered.  a connection born to the purgatory residence of the deity of the 6th dimension of Earth, Bela Lugosi via his mind, his dreams.

thus as the boys stumbled upon the cabin, they entered its boarded up door.  faded yellow caution tape. the room ransacked.  old broken picture frames.  two mattresses.  blood stains.  a desk.  an old transistor radio.  the dial inoperable on its face inoperable.  he turns it on.  it is the meanderings of an old man.  childhood memories. regrets. anger. pain. addiction. wife. family. the old days. simplicity.  as they listen.  the cabin is dark.  it now glows a somnolent green.  they both go blind.  and when they open their eyes.  they see themselves being watched.  sitting in the cabin.  who is watching them?  
It takes awhile for them to adjust.  They are watching through the eyes of Bela Lugosi, the old horror movie actor watching them through a diorama in his vast broken down warehouse.  Boxes upon boxes.  filling rooms.  no space.  an open room with an organ.  a makeshift bed.  besides these items. it is a 4 story building full of boxes.  windows into the world of Earth he may watch at his discretion to pass the time in eternity, infinity, forever.  

the brothers geppetto spend several months in the cabin.  reliving those experiences.  never knowing whose eyes they are living through.  it is a mystery.  that is, until they enter the cabin as Bela is looking in the mirror in the organ room.  he is naked.  he is looking at the vessel he must witness and stand until the universe ends.  his knees weaken.  standing for days.  staring in the mirror.  something suddenly is glowing in his orbs.  he squints.  what is that?   something is in his eyes.  he looks in closer to the mirror.  Wait.  He knows these two.  the two brothers he had followed since that fateful night of his revelation, their broth.  Glom is in the right eye, Glame in the left.  glowing, staring back from his retinas.  

He jumps back.  Frightened.  Stunned. 

The boys see themselves in his eyes.  They run out of the cabin all the way home.  They do not stop for cars, picket lines, prostitutes, nor rabid dogs.  

And that is when they become aware.  they had found the old radio transmitter that used the tower nearby.  they knew it had one frequency.  something never before upon the earth.  the insignificance of Oklahoma.  the unimportance of two brothers int he middle of the suburbs.  life a passing phase of school, marriage, parenting and death.  no time for old vampire Gods perpetuating the misery of the Earth.  they had seen him laugh, smile, augment, and cause despair for the pointless humans on a pointless world in a pointless dimension of time.  their father was probably just another source of amusement for a sad man locked away in the middle of a blackhole.  

they had had enough.
nothing for them but time.
time to create a virus.  and broadcast it.
galacticFANGS is their first experiment.

VIDEO:  (rough draft- Chris- let me know of feasability)

 

Bela Lugosi face takes up the entire screen in the opening shot as his voice speaks.  portrait.  Maybe black behind his face.  menacing.   The whole frame is full.   His features evolve subtly.  his eyebrows lengthen, then shorten. out of his face choas and color around him.  He shakes his head.  Sits on his bed.  staring out at the dioramas filling his room.  animate any of the backstory, Chris.
For this scene, maybe just charcoal black, lines smudgy, white and black.  as he settles into bed.  a funnel of color starts to seep out.  what might be a transition into the dream world.
the dream world will consist of the animations from all the animation we have from Taylor.  If there is something we might want to evolve for these frames, maybe ask Taylor for a few more frames or evolutions of certain ideas?  Find a way to make all of these interact in an interesting way.  What sort of editing?  Do we cut back and forth between Bela sleeping?  Maybe something interesting like him tossing and turning between shots.  The boys in the cabin.  Vibing in the cabin.  We have the shots of the two brothers, maybe have them staring into the camera- yin and yang.  

the dream sequence is largely gonna be determined by notes of how these images may be animated.

 

 

Dad,

I left my phone at my friends place and it's been a hassle gettin it back!  So i thought I'd write you and share with you some of what I am doing and what I am writing to perform this Friday.

Well, 5 down and 1 to go for my midterms!  I didn't do too hot on my therapeutics exam but I passed, so that's a consolation!  I'm havign a good time in San Francisco right now, you'd be proud of how I am trying to lead the organization.  I am really trying to empower the people who work for the org and try and make them feel apart of something- apart fo a family.  That's my big thing. 

I have been hanging with some really cool people.  This guy Rabeah has become a close friend, he's Lebanese, and really laid back, his girlfriend is in LA, so we've been kicking it, listening to music.  He's really gotten into my writing too and that's been good. 

Work has been okay, I didn't go into work a few weeks ago bc of tests but finished both days last week.  It's tough, ya know, ASP is taking up alot of time, trying to work, and study for tests.  

So for Halloween I was the Galactus, a character from the thing Clint and I are doing.  I'm very happy with the label Clint is with, I think this will get them national exposure, a label where they take care of him, and the likelihood of success being associated with this artist, will be good for the fanbase, almost instant credibility.  It's goin to be good for Clint overall, and I see some of our work being picked up.  It would be probably an ideal situation for me, being a health professional and contiuning my artist endeavors as needed on the side as a hobby.  I can't wait for you to see how many great things I am doing here at school and beyond.  I'm finally someone, in my mind, I am confident, I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  I have very few days where I am upset ot depressed about anything.  Things are stable and fruitful.  

How is the peripheral neuropathy? 

Did the doctor suggest a treatment, I know neurontin is first line treatment as it has the least amount of side effects and great evidence- it has many indications.  

 

Here is a special poem- it is one about our trip to Ireland and connecting with my memories there and exploring the heritage via it's mythology and folklore history.  The Morrigan is a goddess in celtic mythology who is the phantom queen, she also has a story where she helped her lover by taking on three animal forms- the eel, the wolf, and the red heifer- she tripped the enemy with as an eel, scared the stampeding cattle towards the enemy as the wolf, and as the red heifer, she leads the stampede towards her enemy.  She also sang poetry and used poetry to defeat her enemies and run them into the ocean.  So the story is as a kid, maybe there was a day I was day dreaming, playing the recorder, you all near by, and I see this mythic goddess in modern day, fighting some battle, but connecting with me, so i would see my irish heritage. 

What's more, this is my first real commissioned work, they invited me to speak cause they heard about me word of mouth!

I'm excited. 

 

 

 

From my xanga blog to the mp3, a visual witness to the creative process

 

It feels like a century since I actually sat here and reveled in my own thoughts, put to the screen here all the ways and manners in which I have changed, how I feel about the world, who I am in the world, the bleak force that has been upon every human to keep his eyes awake at night listening for that strange bird to make a call into the infinite darkness of nature.

 

but here i am.  a working man.

 

many a time, i escaped studying to sit here and type out and work to distract myself from what was going on around me.  a way to cope, to deal, to mope about the internal conflicts and typical struggles of a young man.  My lot in life has been entirely comfortable from start to finish.  despite the tragedy, i am quite aware of the disparity of my life and what it has been like, and a young man living in the middle of some bloody conflict in Congo.  where water isnt available on a whim, food not just a drive thru, a fuckin car!, etc.  The list goes on.  I have been quite fortunate to take advantage of opportunity, but mostly to do what was asked of me by my family and still i dont get full acceptance.  

 

I feel like an alien or something, outside myself, ruminating in artistic ruminations glowing high up above me.  what do they say?  they mostly listen.  

 

do this.  why not that.  melody.  oh precious melodies that in an instant unlock one's self.  like a bird free from a cage.  or one of my cats escaping out the patio screen door.  off.  gone.  capiche?

the power.  and time is fleeting.  i truly feel at the core of this bag of bones that tomorrow is the end of everything, and i must do the now.  but i feel i am doing a poor job of managing life.  bills. the future. the future.  the details that were created in a system devised by man.  ill conceived. unjust.  and here i am drowning in administrative bullshit.  it's almost mind boggling the manner in which we live.  

 

did i mention you can now reach me 

 

at

 

any

 

moment.

 

facebook, twitter, myspace (well . . . does any one really?), email, work email, work phone, cell phone.

 

a million robots with blinking devices that allow constant tracking of your where abouts.

 

and it is as if there is absolutely no conversation about what all this means?  I think people gripe about it.  But do we as a society create a forum to address these companies?  I don't know.  But with all this instant technology.  I have gotten lazy. I cant seem to find the time to read a book or do my finances.  i am tired.  it is because i dont exercise anymore.  yes.  luckily im standing and walking at work.  but really.

 

i hit the pavement running every morning.  every week there is some unexpected expense.  im running the longest race up the most massive mountain.  like Olympus.

 

will i truly complete something soon?  an album 3 years in the making.  almost complete.  we're working on a cartoon, an animation of our artists work to create some strange cartoon about Bela Lugosi dreaming a virus.

 

yea. i know.

 

all in all, i am completely and solid and happy but the stresses of the modern world weigh on me.  married life is golden, just as i knew it to be, and it is a lot of work.  to truly just coalesce your life.  finding the time.  we are very busy.  so we have to actually prioritize time to discuss and work on our lives.  doing this is a trick.  working on projects together, that's where we falter. my work schedule is so messed up, it is hard to do these things.  i work till 8PM most nights, which means I get home between 8 and 9. and i work a lot of weekends.

but at least i have a job.  that's the consensus.  

 

opened up the business section and everything indicates we are teetering on the edge of collapse.  financial.  if we fail, the world fails. money, money, money like a disease hollowing out the spine of Mother Earth.  corruption, politics, war.

 

the way of the world.

 

and we fight on in the minutiae of life.  do i answer enough posts.  do i have enough followers on twitter.  do i have the latest incarnation of an Apple product.  people listen to songs, not albums, and what does that mean.  just cutting out the face of the Mona Lisa and leaving the rest to its solitude at the bottom of a garbage heap.

what does all this mean?

people would probably laugh at these meandering observations and purported-to-be insights.

 

just trying to be faithful and get to the other side.  of what?

 

curtis. husband. galacticSON. pharmacist. brother. son. friend. mentor. athlete (formerly).

Astroids collide

Behind the galactic veil

of our elegant eyes

ergotic

infinite

come on inside (repeat x 1)

 

our parallel lives

 

I was born on Venus

from the city's streets

I crave all knowledge

in primordial seas

and i'll never be

the 33rd degree

i'm lord of the masons in freemasonry

i'm Galileo's muse

or Bukowski's noose

use the universal language 

to climb altitudes

i awoke to soon

in London's gloom

as the fog swarms around me

the bell tolls our doom

but y'all never knew

who geppetto slayed

gestapo killed by Zeus

he stepped in His way

its glome and glaim

no other names

i presume all innocence

in Aztecan rays

my body's grave

with Gods on the ground

I'm dead to the buzzards

they circle around

i hear the knock of

the death knell

it seeps with the sound

found the siren

sings her song how

we worship the "now"

 

but i awake from a history

of a forgotten sleep

find myself on the pavement

in the Mission streets

its De Sade's only dreams

mask of leprosy

the tentacled creatures

with an Octopus beak

it's some disease!

and i'm never me

stretches across each dimension

of an infinite stream

i start to waver to the theory

of an alien race

and waste the countless eons

painting some evolving face

but what could it be

but what could we see

if we put our heads in mirrors

and breathe eternity

but what would it mean, 

but what could we dream

in the comfort of our happiness

and a calming peace

believe

samples:

 

"The Japanese are in hysterics over the recent, incredible transformation of GalacticSON from bus driver to a living Anime demiGod . . ."

"Hi this is your President, GalacticSON . . ." TV static, changing channels

"Galactic, my name is GalacticSON, I've got nuthing, nuthing i tell you.  I'm washed up, been on the sauce sunrise to sunset, i haven't eaten in a week, my family abandoned me, I have no job.  I'm sorry but could you find it in you to spare some change?  Anything helped.  God Bless."

"And now here's GalacticSON with the weather . . ."

"GalacticSON died today from complications due to cancer today.  The opera star and ecologist from South Africa . . ."

"Gloam and Glame were discovered today locked in their local area basement in Oklahoma.  Thought to be evading authorities using a vast network of tunnels and intergalactic channels for last month.  They were found unconscious next to a simple radio device glowing and working with some unknown substance or doorway to another galaxy.  Sergeant GalacticSON denied comment when asked and we will get back to you as this story unfolds . . ."

"I'm telling you, the proletariat are being swindled.  It's true.  You know me?  I'm GalacticSON, not some witch doctor selling snake oil and moonshine.  The army will be away, Marx and Lenin are on board."

"Tell me, now, now let's get back to your father.  Something tells me, just from what we have discussed the last year, that there is something under the surface.  Something was unfinished in his death.  I feel that you are moving closer towards forgiveness, but is it for yourself or your father?"

 

I see you all out there

living in the clouds

little futuristic minds

you got to find

 

to move your beat 

to move your feet

you take out your spine

you will not be defeated

you will not be greeted

at the doors

will you open up

will you clean your sores?

this won't take long

to burn this song

if you speak with impurity

nothing goes wrong

the crowd now yawns

what the fuck do i say

without infinite poetry

i wouldn't be alive

today

if you take care of each moment

don't leave it behind

do not shift

travel

don't look behind signs

to live your life in augmenting streaks

to live your life in radical thinking

of suppression

of oppression

will not be handled with care

you burn down the palace

and you start it from there

you take down the 

corporate poisoning seas

you burn down

megalomaniac

profit disease

 

the trap goes on

proletariat 

face to the ground

white collar boots

see the shit

licked from the grounds

 

to buy up the power

through right wing regime

tea party known racists

fundamentalist

extreme

the song goes on

and on and on

with no answer

no forgiveness

it will fade to the dawn

what will we do

when

the universe goes on

blink our eyes

and out we go

we're gone