Tomorrow's Forecast

Foreign element in the air
A wayward wind finds me
Without any comfort there
As if it wants me to see

No more second guessing
Waiting for the next scandal
Somebody steals a blessing
It’s more than I can handle

Truth is a real eye-opener
It reveals the obvious lies
Watch without the filtered blur
As they fuck wealthy spies

Weasels in the hen house
Buying information online
Silent like a church mouse
Owned by the corporate swine

A leads to B then comes C
Right out of the old playbook
Profiting off what was once free
Is another well funded crook

The game evolves constantly
It’s the players that change
On a current shopping spree
Via blood-diamond exchange

Sleeping next to Hitler’s bible
Disgraced men chasing sin
Nobody in power is held liable
A wandering glance a stifled grin

This is not the news it’s reality
Said the raven that chased the dove
Tomorrow’s forecast is mild brutality
I’m your host, Damian DeadLove