Our Devolution Is Televised -

We’re in possession

Of reaper’s sleep

It’s nothing for any of us to speak

Our Spineless leaders

Oops I mean cheaters

Hide behind illegal policies

They’ve sold out millions fueled by all of our blood

People die for knowing things like this

You could as well

We are our own hell

Can’t you feel it?

Can’t you feel the lock down?

These pins and needles

That swiftly cut off any chance we ever had to live

That dollar’s poison

It’s job is prison

And in between is nothing fit to give

So stand and shake your leg of sleep of

It’s rotting, it’s gangrenous and raw

Yes yours as well you can’t avoid that smell

Can’t you smell it?

Can’t you smell the lock down?

So what’s this fear for?

A common detour

Like life is anything but short

Impulsive devolve with deadly resolve

Paranoia rushing through your veins

In search of vengeance there is often just myth

And myth is nothing more than tale

So racist retort and corporate bloodsport

Lock down and frame your kin!