We live in a time of fire and flood, where
Monoculture crop circles drain life blood into petroleum production
While living beings drown in the rising tide of man(kind?)
We live in a time where the flyness of your clothes is graded higher
Than the righteous of your flows, where
The nickel dime spit shine on those chrome rims, like
The flashing scythe of judgement held by a cloaked figure,
Can out sparkle the faded hollow holes where hearts are supposed
To beat liquid rubies to frozen, plaque filled arteries.
Silver disks spin fast and bright past
Florescent street lights with offering of broken liquor bottles
And grease soaked fast food paper bags scattered at their feet.
And all down the streets lay bodies of creatures, that were not human,
But still mattered. Their small fragile frames, flattened under the pressure of civilization.
The pressure of this insatiable human need to survive, whatever, means, necessary.
It was from our awakening sprung the fear of falling
Now we walk in lines and circles,
Always aching and faking and making things happen,
Keeping up with production,
Wreaking havoc and destruction
And plugging our senses to numb the pain
Of living estranged
From the world whence we came.