Tomorrows Politicians

Little girls pigtails being pulled, the sound of stock-market screams for more.. tomorrows youth.  
 
Dead grass, mowed down by their combat leather strap mentalities,  
built up to bring it all down someday.  
 
I turn on the TV, these children are on their way to running  
the show..  
 
These people take advantage of minorities for their  
gold and get them excited about it, drop bombs on innocent  
civilians working for innocent livings to spend on the privilege  
of watching the sun being stolen from the sky and being sold back  
to them through TV subscriptions. 
 
Listen to them, spouting their gospel about love, hate, war,  
more law but less jail time, anarchy and uncle Sam wants you,  
but it's too late.. he's got you.  
 
Children's home brutality in the beginning and it carries on  
from there.  
 
Staring at pale faces in the wind, the glazed over eyes looking  
for the prize.. that brand new 64" TV set is on its way.. the  
rush to get home to drink the last minute dregs of propaganda from  
their old telly is fleeting, like their lives.. bursting for  
that buzz of security from new reports in colour.  
 
These children are hiding, laid in wait in all your school  
yards, playground whispers of Johnny and Plain Jane for prime  
minister.  
 
Climbing trees because they know the flood will hit soon, blood  
on the soles of plimsolls as catchy kiss turns hit and miss.  
 
Dressed up in their sweet smiling uniform, they take the stand.  
 
The unknowing politicians of tomorrow.