Corporate Levitation
Written September 25, 2002
For us, the time is growing tight.
Never used to having to fight.
Gotten accustomed to having the might.
Hasn't that always been our right?
Obviously, people need fast food and Coke.
Americans churning out filth 'til we choke.
You thought our freedoms would last forever.
But Nine-eleven was used as a lever.
Ashcroft advanced, his plan so clever.
The Law. Our Freedom. The two he did sever.
Not one American, an over-achiever
Making our failure, their cantilever.
Government and business, stocking the freezer.
Hiding our secrets and stealing our fever.
Then for free and now for profit.
Our song of liberty, now a cough fit.
Death and mayem we incur and permit.
Because the 'War on Terror' is turning a profit.
Republicans praying we come down off it.
Desperately trying to mold a prophet.
'84 was only a few years off
pushing liberties straight off the cuff.
We're living in caves and feeding on fluff.
Ceiling painted blue, clouds cream puff.
Fooled into believing we're rugged and tough.
They're giving a test and calling our bluff.
Our nation too busy piling up Stuff.
Nobody remembers when we lost the real snuff.
Failed for never saying 'enough is enough'.
Some see, but their voices get stifled.
Rebels imprisoned, their files found rifled.
We continue watching consoling reports.
Making survivors faces' contort.
Knowing there won't be a lasting retort.
Killing Osama's neighbors, our last resort.
Their brothers and mothers died without a fight.
So the Bushers could get a small sound byte.
The Plan hinges on hurting another
Poison the tumor, and your allies smother.
You must kill one to save the other.
Business and Government becoming blood brothers.
While Freedom and Liberty run back to their mothers.
Not love, but freedom, under which things grow.
Not ignorance, but spirit, we now need to sow.
Lady Liberty confused, her future in doubt.
The State has forgotten what it was all about.
Their reason for being: our protector devout.
Now become a bully, and sometimes a lout.
They need, and can't function without...
the power to control what people spout.
Then a whisper, now a shout.
We're playing the killer Boy Scout.
Written September 25, 2002
For us, the time is growing tight.
Never used to having to fight.
Gotten accustomed to having the might.
Hasn't that always been our right?
Obviously, people need fast food and Coke.
Americans churning out filth 'til we choke.
You thought our freedoms would last forever.
But Nine-eleven was used as a lever.
Ashcroft advanced, his plan so clever.
The Law. Our Freedom. The two he did sever.
Not one American, an over-achiever
Making our failure, their cantilever.
Government and business, stocking the freezer.
Hiding our secrets and stealing our fever.
Then for free and now for profit.
Our song of liberty, now a cough fit.
Death and mayem we incur and permit.
Because the 'War on Terror' is turning a profit.
Republicans praying we come down off it.
Desperately trying to mold a prophet.
'84 was only a few years off
pushing liberties straight off the cuff.
We're living in caves and feeding on fluff.
Ceiling painted blue, clouds cream puff.
Fooled into believing we're rugged and tough.
They're giving a test and calling our bluff.
Our nation too busy piling up Stuff.
Nobody remembers when we lost the real snuff.
Failed for never saying 'enough is enough'.
Some see, but their voices get stifled.
Rebels imprisoned, their files found rifled.
We continue watching consoling reports.
Making survivors faces' contort.
Knowing there won't be a lasting retort.
Killing Osama's neighbors, our last resort.
Their brothers and mothers died without a fight.
So the Bushers could get a small sound byte.
The Plan hinges on hurting another
Poison the tumor, and your allies smother.
You must kill one to save the other.
Business and Government becoming blood brothers.
While Freedom and Liberty run back to their mothers.
Not love, but freedom, under which things grow.
Not ignorance, but spirit, we now need to sow.
Lady Liberty confused, her future in doubt.
The State has forgotten what it was all about.
Their reason for being: our protector devout.
Now become a bully, and sometimes a lout.
They need, and can't function without...
the power to control what people spout.
Then a whisper, now a shout.
We're playing the killer Boy Scout.
Deathbed
Written February 24, 2003
I fill my mind with...changin'.
Cause I...lived my life for you.
Filled my mind, frustratin'.
When I...saw my life was through.
Built my life, unchangin'.
Cause I...heard you tell me...to.
Had my own...opinion.
But I...bore the load unto.
Now here we're...fading.
Time I...thought this whole thing through.
Written February 24, 2003
I fill my mind with...changin'.
Cause I...lived my life for you.
Filled my mind, frustratin'.
When I...saw my life was through.
Built my life, unchangin'.
Cause I...heard you tell me...to.
Had my own...opinion.
But I...bore the load unto.
Now here we're...fading.
Time I...thought this whole thing through.
Chickenhawk
Written Summer 2003
Sadaam's got to be insane,
Bush Junior, flying a jet-plane.
Come to plant a flag and make a claim.
Finishing Dad's work, a financial drain.
It's laid out and plain.
From invasion, he can't refrain.
Ladies should push to shave the Bush.
Needs to be tough, and for that he'll burn.
The location really of no concern.
Needs a beachhead for re-election.
Already in progress, spreading the infection.
Bombs attached to planes, or so he claims.
A chickenhawk, picking a fight.
Spilling our guts to govern the Right.
Weapons hidden in the cabinet,
so atypical.
Attacking at sunset,
always so predictable.
You can't blame a Bush...
For being just another shrub.
Written Summer 2003
Sadaam's got to be insane,
Bush Junior, flying a jet-plane.
Come to plant a flag and make a claim.
Finishing Dad's work, a financial drain.
It's laid out and plain.
From invasion, he can't refrain.
Ladies should push to shave the Bush.
Needs to be tough, and for that he'll burn.
The location really of no concern.
Needs a beachhead for re-election.
Already in progress, spreading the infection.
Bombs attached to planes, or so he claims.
A chickenhawk, picking a fight.
Spilling our guts to govern the Right.
Weapons hidden in the cabinet,
so atypical.
Attacking at sunset,
always so predictable.
You can't blame a Bush...
For being just another shrub.
Thinking of Two
Written November 11, 2002
I decorated the tree, and thought of you.
I hung the mistletoe, thinking of two.
He was so happy.
So quick and so bright.
Now enamored and sappy.
All trick and no fight.
I stripped the tree, and thought of you.
I forgot the mistletoe, thinking of two.
Things old, now seem brand new.
Love the same, and I'll love too.
"I want you in my life, so I may as well try."
He grinned and came to fix her.
"Nobody loves me, so I may as well die."
She smirked and became his perplexor.
She planned it all day, expecting a fight,
She threw him away, and he didn't care why.
He ended the play, genuflecting the night.
Hung up the phone, and let it all die.
He came away better,
even brought back a smile.
Never sent her a letter,
More relaxed by the mile.
I wrecked the tree, how evil of me.
I smashed the mistletoe, thinking of three.
I know that I've lived.
I know that I'll die.
First love should be sweet.
As sweet as fresh pie.
You took me down.
You brought me low.
You made me frown.
Your baggage in tow.
Hate for hurt, you traded me.
While my heart I gave away.
Felt the sting, a jaded bee.
Six years ago today.
Written November 11, 2002
I decorated the tree, and thought of you.
I hung the mistletoe, thinking of two.
He was so happy.
So quick and so bright.
Now enamored and sappy.
All trick and no fight.
I stripped the tree, and thought of you.
I forgot the mistletoe, thinking of two.
Things old, now seem brand new.
Love the same, and I'll love too.
"I want you in my life, so I may as well try."
He grinned and came to fix her.
"Nobody loves me, so I may as well die."
She smirked and became his perplexor.
She planned it all day, expecting a fight,
She threw him away, and he didn't care why.
He ended the play, genuflecting the night.
Hung up the phone, and let it all die.
He came away better,
even brought back a smile.
Never sent her a letter,
More relaxed by the mile.
I wrecked the tree, how evil of me.
I smashed the mistletoe, thinking of three.
I know that I've lived.
I know that I'll die.
First love should be sweet.
As sweet as fresh pie.
You took me down.
You brought me low.
You made me frown.
Your baggage in tow.
Hate for hurt, you traded me.
While my heart I gave away.
Felt the sting, a jaded bee.
Six years ago today.
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| Page last updated: November 12, 2003 |
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