Taxi Tirade - heard in a cab

I'd hang-em all me, the whole ruddy lot,

They're all bloody in it, as like as not!

All them old school ties and that free masonry.

Those half-wit bankers and captains of industry.

Fat cat criminals, they've hit the jack-pot now,

They're tapping off our taxes while we cheer them on somehow.

I'd hang-em all me, the whole ruddy lot,

They're all bloody in it, as like as not!

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02-05 Umbrella


Supervillians livin to control the globe

with the power to twist words and swallow you whole

multiple personality disorder created abominations

have evil plans carefully designed and legislated

Doctor America Frankenstein brought these creatures to life

now we’re in a bit of a bind and our leaders are goin blind

apparently they don’t see how these monsters continue to breed

ignorance and apathy we need to tease this disease

We’ve been infected to believe that we need more than we got

while most of the people around the globe starve and rot

and the planet is developing cancer from all the shots

of artificial chemical drugs for growin crops

How many heads does this monster have?

You could cut one of them back, but there’s no way it would last.

Whatever heads are left will take over control

and roll with the punches as it travels the road

of destruction disguised as progress, a tool

of corruption so that the biggest share is held by the few

the only moral code that this creature holds

is the bottom line profit, the one-term goal

How many lives will this monster take before it pays

for the mistakes it’s made on purpose day after day.

Surface evidence swept under the rug, it was built

to never acknowledge weakness and never admit guilt

But wait a minute, we can’t look at it the wrong way

this monster might just be too powerful to slay

so instead, our only option is to starve it to death

by creating a new economy without wealth or debt.

A system designed with everyone’s benefit in mind

technology will rise exponentially before our eyes

solutions instead of laws so politicians can’t lie

until we eradicate violence and poverty and crime

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Rap lyrics, I'll use em eventually.

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Now it's too Late

Volume Two

Now it's too late

By: Matthew Canning

In a world full of sinners and saints

trapped within the web of the markets and banks

money is just nothing but an Illusion

as debt becomes the solution

living within the shadow of this beast

avoiding the corrupt priest,

housing an army of secret police.

“Now it's too late, if your faithful they call this fate

there is little time left, to stop the predator

we can still flush out the traitors.”

We have becomes slaves in our own home

corporate zombies, a mindless drone

plugging in at night, by switching on a button

and switching off your brain, subconscious glutton

feeding your pride off another's sin,

the Antichrist has risen again

he's within each and everyone of us

tempting, teasing

seducing and pleasing

oh how everything can be so deceiving

from what we all thought to be so perceiving

the science of the universe,

how taboo, grown to become perverse.

“Now it's too late, it's what some call fate

when there is no time left to stop the predator

at least we can still hang the traitors.”

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Tangent - "Food for thought"


Tangent – "Food for thought"
By: Matthew Wayne



Be still the hallucination,
a bad trip of your own creation
quiet now the obsession
when you see the profit standing before you
the promises of riches and gold beyond what you knew
A dream all too good to be true
yet you drool, and take it with open arms
falling prey to their villainous charms


“Whispers fill your head,
'I am your lover, take me to your bed'
seducing your every weakness
sealed behind that fatal kiss
'I will grant you anything'
oh how the whispers sing
yet the trickery of the tease
gives them exactly what they please”



Open up your mind, open your third eye
open up your heart, there is no need to cry
enjoy this life for you know it is here
push past your every darkest fear
live for the moment, not the hour
live for the day, theres no time to cower

On clouds up high, above the chaos below
Ants on a mission, to live their existence slow
blinded to the marvels above them, I can no longer just sit and pretend
With a universe built on math, and a society that wants to arrest me for my stash.



              Hypocrisy runs deeper than blood, where a war of ideals has spilled the blood of far more innocent.
Stupidity has crippled our growth, not only industrial but mentally and spiritually. So much unneeded stress and drama form and manifest when there is an easy solution to the cause, staring them in the face, yet would step on the toes of a few highly invested members. The legalization of a plant, As well as any other drug. Allow for the home growth of maturity. Taxes paid, harvest and distribution of such a beneficial herb and again taxes paid. Then industrial fibers will once again take root and give rise to the ever demanding energy crisis. Returning once again to America's heritage, finding agriculture as such demand where large quantities become fruitful within the home growth of our great nation. Feeding ourselves and our children such nutritional properties from the seeds of a plant so versatile. With science at our backs such extravagant meals could be prepared. Millions of people could find work in the plentiful gardens in which a single plant could create.


          No longer arresting simple users, who prefer their relaxation not found in liquid or glass, but the gentle harmony of that which is nature. Our courts and peace officers could then focus on what they really needs addressing, give them the guns to protect themselves and their countrymen, for a murderer without a care needs to be brought to justice and not a simple old man who tries to protect his house and farm. This is what our forefathers fought and died for, so if the war on drugs were to end in a glorious day to be had, a day violence would drop and the black market weakened, There would arise other problems of course but that is the way of the world. The privately owned jails would be vacant for the real criminals who pose harm to others and not themselves.

                   For in this dream, money would be lost the issuing of citations and the court costs of law biding citizens but what they will lose there will be gain, the revenue from taxes and sales, open to any and all who is of age. As versatile as this plant yields, thousands if not millions of jobs created virtually over night, and to treat the drug 'THC' like it were alcohol, I.D. To buy and a license to sell, a permit to grow where a small step towards personal liberties are once again gained. My voice has been spoken, it has been written and now it has been defined, and for those poor souls looking behind the cast iron bars for doing nothing but partaking in nature, pardons should be issued and compensations amended for a prohibition of ignorance and mistrust. Let us once again become great within the eyes of our children, let us lead by example that in a free society Humans and adults have the right to dictate what we consume or where we go and wander with our own minds. So many have suffered far worse at the hands of prohibition than at the vice in which they prohibit. Families torn apart by a government sworn to protect them, Where a plant has kept them going when in a world all seems lost and yet can still smile and laugh with their child, maybe just maybe giving that next line of kin the same out look of hope on life. 
            Most of all give unto me what my father, and his father before him and so on down the line, the same right to peruse my freedom of happiness where as I am doing no harm to others yet at the same time curing my body of societies ills, Scientifically proven beneficial to countless ailments.
I have this life to live, let me find my peace. Plant my garden and live my life for the moment. Let me help the sick and injured, feed and clothe the sick and frail. The fibers from this sacred plant could house the homeless of every nation. While I find my garden of eden. A beautiful vast valley rich with trees and open fields a cliff or two and possibly a passing stream with a lake side view.

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New President(Same Warmind)

Thought For Food

everybodies excited,

at least those in cameras sight

and not caught in the sights,

not six feet under our compassion

seems we have a new president

but the same warmind

i heard anti-war

and troop increase at the same time

tell them the wars ending, in afghanistan

tell the people in iraq that deadlines coming soon

tell them about the iffy draw down and of the handoff some noon

isn't that all it is, afterall?

ha, residual force

that's like trading

in being raped

for being molested

yes! everybodies excited,

grease ease the youth into a reich

it's not caught in your sight,

get all the talk about service?

seems we have a new president

but the same warmind

i heard anti-war

army size increase at the same time

tell us the wars ending, while we're building up

tell the people in iran that diplomacy's coming soon

say again about the draft coming when we fight them

does israel strike first, to draw fire?

ah, it's the same warmind

ah, just the same warmind



it's just the same warmind



save your time, save a life

cause it's just the same warmind

anti-you, anti-me,

anti-them, anti-any living thing

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I wouldn't have thrown a shoe at Bush

I wouldn't have thrown a shoe at Bush; I would've thrown a brick.

The way that he ran this country makes me feel sick.

I would've hit him right between the eyes.

The way he ran this country has made him despised.

Millions of people have lost their jobs and he actually thinks everything is great.

He wouldn't think that way if he had to suffer such a fate.

If I had hit him with a brick, his sorry ass would've hit the ground.

This country would be in a much better shape if he hadn't been around.

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Generation Can't Be Arsed.

We've had it with Democracy,

In generation can't be arsed,

We prefer a grim Autocracy.

As long as we may kiss the arse,

Of burnt out Aristocracy.

So raise your glass to the new elite,

The alcopopping pseudos cheering, paparazzi lizards leering

And the shimmerings of shallow stars,

No underwear, but aren't they neat?

They hog the stage, their live's a fake

What do we care? We eat their cake.

As strutting kings and queens of style,

Go rutting down our Royal Mile.

Bombarded by the medias, medias of mediocrity,

We welcome now the dawning age,

The age of Mediocracy.

And heaven help one who dares: to yawn,

To shine, or wilfully fails to fawn,

Or writes in critical letters, of our media appointed betters.

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The riptides of time surge about us now.

But should we hold fast, or go with the flow?

The slacktides of our time will never return

No matter how much we may come to yearn

For the warmth of our pasts and our present.

If history can teach us, only one thing,

It's that the future is not all that pleasant.

But I do take some comfort in one small detail

Whilst institutions crash and our politicians fail

For at a childrens party held only last week,

I met a small boy, shy at first, but not meek.

Only nine years old, but he much impressed me,

Jakob is a German Jewish child you see.

The last one, born in this town,  

They killed in 43.

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Deal Or No Deal?


Time was when people were making money,

And spending it as fast as they could make it,

When Wall St. was paved with milk and honey

And other people's money, with brokers ready to take it.

Corporate bosses were taking profits for themselves,

Letting their workers have minimum-wage cake;

Wehn accountants placed doctored books on the shelves

To keep the IRS from knowing who was on the take.

At some point, for some people, earning money lost its appeal:

"Why bother earning it when we can legally steal

From those who trust it with us? We'll never feel

Like Howie Mandel asking, "Deal Or No Deal?"

Now the tables have turned: economies the world over

Have begun to topple, ours being the first.

More and more bad news rolled us on our backs like Rover,

And made us realize we were choking on our thirst

For money and power. The markets spun out

Of control, and much was lost in a heartbeat.

What was a trickle became a flood, no doubt,

As it flowed from Wall St. and spilled onto Main Street.

Politicians soon saw they had to stop the spinning wheel

Before too many jobs and too much money lost would seal

The fate of a nation. They came to Congress to humbly kneel

Before their peers, begging, "Deal Or No Deal?"

A deal was indeed made, but of the wrong sort,

As more money and more jobs are still disappearing,

And with every market drop and negative earnings report,

The long-forewarned recession that everyone was fearing

Becomes a stark reality. Not for many years

Have so many lost their jobs so fast, but today

Even the corporate bosses see their worst fears

Of losing the money they have stolen anyway.

CEOs of banks and department stores now stand heel to heel

With the thousands of unemployed workers, unable to conceal

What the heads of GM, Ford, and Chrysler now feel,

With tin cups in their hands, asking "Deal Or No Deal?"

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This can be seen as more of a sequel to "Financial Politics" from 2002, with more of a 2008 twist to it. This came out of a caffeine-and-nicotine soaked night as the news of the auto industry bailout and the Bernard Maidoff scandal was fresh off the wires. Sometimes a search for inspiration can be no further away then from the headlines of the day...

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