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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Masterpiece of Shit

a piece of the master
held within my hands
what flawed a man

free debt
come on down
hand it around

a piece of the master
held within our minds
frayed strands that confine

freed debt
pass it on
it doesn't belong

disease of the rulers
power shown on the screen
weak and fragile reality

storm their fear
let them hear
just how near

this ease by the rulers
was taken not given
remain relentless

reign their clouds
all unforgiven
far past tense

the hidden king
hears the march of the boots
points finger away from the noose

eyes unswayed
begs on the throne
look this way
your words are gone

the phantom king
beyond what's acceptable
displayed like a spectacle

get in line
spit as you walk by
spilled entrails
slaves prevailed