 |
| "Machines and foreign aliens of homo sapiens shape" |
Horses around a ring track, they say it's the 'sport of kings'.
Running for their masters gain, fast gold the animal brings.
But men are now the horses and 'attack' the running track.
Killing for their leaders game, and bringing shadows back.
When murder kills a murderer in civilized routine,
differential differences divide a hole between.
The cure for social sicknesses? A nurtured common foe!
Enemies of the united state, a unified state of woe.
Information overloaded with a hidden call to kill.
Our innate instinctual genocide circumvents free will.
A poisoned mass identity; a frayed old puppet string.
A thread of manipulation, pulled by a puppet king.
Inhuman will kill human when dehumanized as ape,
Machines and foreign aliens of homo sapiens shape.
Ideas and ideologies of massive mind control.
So easy killing animals that lack a living soul.
Kings, they love their bloody sport and their gilded foreign fame.
All tedium of monotony, repressed by common game.
Shaken die and counter moves of selfish power battle,
Played by puppet populous and slaughtered human cattle.
CHORUS:
Like chess with hollow pieces carved from the bones of men,
War is the sport of tired kings and age-old presidents.
A game of empty promises that graves fulfill again,
War is the sport of tired kings and age-old presidents.
No comments:
Post a Comment