All these plans, what a waste.
I'll have so much free time now.
Oh God, the speech.
Imagine myself on a beach.
They can't blame me, I did my best.
I feel gross, I need a rest.
But there's no escape.
I can already feel it.
The somber devil on my shoulder
At every turn
jarringly brushing my cheeck
allows me no solace, no solace, no solace
Can I resist sinking deep into the irony
cackling madly as the house burns down
as the corn-fed simpletons gasp bulge-eyed in bewilderment
fodder for the fresh forged crown
It's not their fault, it's indoctrination
it's not their fault, or some such jazz
it's not their fault, it's indoctrination
it's not their fault.
The great weight that was nearly mine
it weighs on me despite and still
And I'm queer with fear, that it always will.
I mean attacking the press is an attack on the 1st amendment.
It's the very first amendment.
It's like Mao's back from the dead
once more leading the reds
with the same inane rhetoric and propoganda
for the people, against the people,
onward, onward to autocracy.
Sycophants trading dignity for your daily bread
No resentment
No contentment.