Toys of the Giants

Stitches tear from our souls,.
This fucked up world is out of control,.
Children sing rap songs about pussy and crack,.
Trap houses and smack,.
We look to the posters of scantily clad women,.
We set judgement of what the world should be,.
How to look and how to behave,.
Fucking drones we have to become,.
A steady flicker of light shines from the lies,.
We flock to them like deranged moths,.
Scouring the night for something to mop away our pain,.
In the late 60s something was perpetrated onto us,.
Free love and happiness,.
Now it appears to have backfired,.
We are now nothing but lost toys,.
A toy of a giant who sets us on fire,.,.,.,,