The People In Charge

The people in charge of us are all assholes,

A result of corruption by ultimate power.

We’ve handed Them free reign over the controls,

Forgetting the warning from Dwight Eisenhower.

.

Military, industrial, technological, complex,

The system's attuned to the needs of a few,

While the masses make do with meager paychecks.

Make no mistake, They don’t care about you.

.

The squeeze happens slowly, like a frog in a pan,

Erosion, inflation, the gradual burn,

They act like it’s not all a part of their plan,

And we close our eyes, because we never learn.

.

They loot, pillage, and profit, sanctioned by The State.

Complicit in illicit, amoral schemes,

Their net worths all blossom while the masses’ stagnate,

A perverse inversion of American Dreams.

.

If it seems like it’s happening now faster and faster,

You’re not mistaken, just look in your hand,

Or listen to the television newscaster,

A full-on assault on ev’ry sensory band.

.

Drugs don’t all come as powders or tablets.

Insidious exploits of brains work as well,

The speed-up is amplified by our bad habits,

Descend with me now to neurotransmitter Hell.

.

Anxiety, depression, anhedonic ennui,

Addiction, affliction, and divisive rage,

Have been fostered in us non-consensually

By design, not a byproduct of The Modern Age.

.

Illogical biological processes churn,

Subversive, recursive, with key-words implanted,

And visceral reactions at every turn,

But still we gaze on, enthralled and enchanted.

.

You have been made sick, now here comes medication,

It’s not a cure, just some symptom relief,

Withdrawals are a test of your dedication,

The system in place requires your belief.

.

Natural functions of our brains are perverted,

Enriching the platforms which endlessly scroll.

Society’s purpose has been inverted,

Leading the way is President Troll.

.

Meanwhile you keep working as hard as you can,

And paying more at all of the stores,

But this is all a part of Their plan,

As it’s taxes that pay for Their crusades and wars.

How can we sleep while our beds are burning?

And keep knowingly paying the pipers?

We search for fulfillment with deep, stinging yearning,

While They feast off gold plates and shit in Their diapers.

If We don’t rise up, saying “This all ends now!”

And help Each-Other unshackle Our chains,

We’ll live out our days yoked to Their plow,

Beholden to the assholes holding the reins.