LYRICS=
Crazy is the new-look sane. Ted Bundy’s dating Lois Lane
Denial can remove what’s real and block a mountain range
You can make fake history real if you take the time,
and anything can now be yours, even if it’s mine
I saw the broken creatures wait like statues in the park
They didn’t move at all, and it was getting very dark
It looked like Picasso had been really busy there,
and something felt uncomfortable, I think it was the fear
I think it was the terrifying sense of love displaced
and all the things I couldn’t see that had been erased
I could hear the silence like a frozen dial tone
There was an eerie feeling like I was not alone
People walk around in an envelope of lies
They pick the ones that suit their life
that cuts them down to size
and nothing makes a difference
till death looks them in the eyes
I think I saw the great white whale, his name was Randy Fine
He rolled across the DMZ and crossed the Dandy line
a human Pez dispenser filled with after-dinner mints.
If his shins were conscious, they’d be wearing splints
Polarization is the name, and duality’s the game,
between the compos mentis. and the clinically insane
When the heart is shuttered, the chances become slim
for carnal out-of-towners who are dancing on The Rim
The way of carnal culture always works out the same;
you lose everything you have, to your undying shame
Then the moment comes to you. No one can say when
The thing that seldom happens keeps happening again.
People walk around in an envelope of lies
They pick the ones that suit their life
that cuts them down to size,
and nothing makes a difference
till death looks them in the eyes
Albert Bourla is a monster, so is Alex Karp
When they leave this planet, it won’t be to play the harp
They are bound for darkness; it’s a good match for their souls
They’ll be doing quite the jig when they’re dancing on the coals
Peter Thiel and Larry Fink are also in that class
of reptile demon underlings, kissing Satan’s ass
Take a moment. Take a day. Think about the cost
Try to factor in the price before your soul is lost
People walk around in an envelope of lies.
They pick the ones that suit their life
that cuts them down to size,
and nothing makes a difference
till death looks them in the eyes
Nothing makes a difference
Till Death looks them in the eyes.
Till Death looks them in the eyes.
