Author Information
Shuffle to the Sound of a Passing Train
I feel like I'm wasting time
As if I should improve something of mine
Build something stupid to take up some space
Take part in tragedy and say it's a phase
Record a fading echo and take it as my own
Sue all those bastards who won't leave it alone
Invent something brutal to benefit mankind
And charge the spoiled public a dollar ninety-nine
The world as a collective smokes a burnt cigarette
Then complain about the cancer that they often forget
Man and woman toil over their individual quirks
Deadbeats pillage while the honest face the hurt
Skyscrapers vandalized, fell down and exploded
Busy, heedless people get fired or demoted
Office supplies are stolen without any delay
Later that day, the wrong man was electrocuted away
At the funeral people were crying and sobbing aloud
While the guilty found parole and is on his way out
He takes his first steps, with a wave to the crowd
A single gunshot rings and he's down for the count
The once innocent plead while the dirty lay and bleed
With a right to remain silent but with no real capacity
Everything feels filthy when touched with clean hands
What's able to eat your skin is enough to kill a man
And what we do as the audience is simply feel your pain
The poets dramatize you as reporters increase the strain
We act as if we care but we just love to watch you squirm
Misery loves its company and we're all miserable in return
Spines continue cracking and the power keeps going out
The tall and the mighty prey upon the short and the stout
People say things backwards in hopes that you'll understand
But without really saying anything what's there to comprehend
We assume we can live comfortably by avoiding it all
Eventually we're destined to fall one hell of a mighty fall
In the near future I promise, we'll have nothing smart to say
While the world as a collective just gets out of the way.
