It was the 8th of June
and not everything was lost,
out on parade,
a war machine called the people a riot
We who wanted a government of us, for us, by us,
Let those bought into the system of establishment, credit, wealth
Declare what is best for the next generation, for generations to come without anyone else in mind
Dear Millenial, hear me, calling you, phone homing you, in longest night
How much darker into that evening must we wait for Dawn?
Why so softly now how we lay our brother’s down
When we rob them of their own doors
To the rooms where their children once laid
How we mow their city landscapes low to keep a decent yard a parking lot.
You’ll never be off the grid again
I could walk away by light of day
And wander thousands of miles
Never leaving America.
Never without their eyes
Awatch, awaiting, a drop in the pan of some server,
Not lost, very nearly lost, but not lost
Hello? Hello in there?
Yeah, he’s there, just not very right now.
Just mostly dead.
The Woodsmen listen
Good luck storming the castle
You’d need a miracle.
Who is the Boogey Woman?