Fresh noise just in for the new season
God on a T and rainbows perverted
In public a ticking bomb is on the table
Paraded as part of being capable.
Credit card kids in large white spaces
Cultivate their sour faces
Mum on a leash, opinions unleashed
Thirty five years of well kept doom…

The headache is hip
The heartache is it.

Once unplugged from the sludge-
Wouldn’t know what’s being talked about.
Constant drama deemed necessary
No trend for the discretionary.

Annuities of nervousness and fear
Twitching of graphs and fantasies
Leaky ministries, under-rehearsed opera,
Hangs the dictator and makes a pop star.
Cartoon grin, bad guy wins, entertainment
Fake nobility in darkened video rooms
Loud affectation, invisible toxic sneer
Many subscriptions for righteousness…

The trauma is hip
The tragedy is it.

Once unplugged from the grudge-
Wouldn’t know what’s being fussed about.
Constant drama deemed necessary
No trend for the discretionary.

In the spaces between eruptions
Light quietly waits there.