The Madman

It’s a newspaper story by a maniac
Who’s pissed he not paid as where he thinks he’s at
About some Muslim or queer who’s just standing there
Like who, me? Caught in the spotlight glare

So what will he write when tomorrow comes?
And who’ll be the target of his poison tongue?
And the editor rubs his hands in happy glee
Because the maniac has the best fucking numbers that he’s ever seen

There are those who will hate you if you are different than you or me
As though personal choices are a social fear
It’s like being alive with opinon makes you a target so clear
Because you don’t stand for what the bible belt can see and hear

He’ll stand and shout with spittle staining his chin
Don’t let them out alive, or don’t let them in
Who is the demon in the social extreme?
Just those who believe in what he believes in

The mad media rule the day
And the different hide away
Just those who would think things through
Just those like me and you

Watch out what you write and say
Or the spotlight could turn your way
And though it’s supposed to be free here you soon will see
That there are those who would kill you just for what you believe

The madman will pound on his keyboard
And the masses will believe in what he has to say
Since he is the leader of the social conscience
Until the spotlight turns his way