This trap
Creates a trance
Looking down
Things would be different
How natural is it
Inside a snow globe
Run by computers
Practicing witchcraft
As accidents happen
In cars an in houses
And the crooked ones
Create more Holdens
More scapegoats
Who’re dumber than rocks
In a storm with a raincoat
Looking up
Things should be different
As Santa claws through our heads
Our minds wish for mud dolls
What will they look like
In heaven’s matinee-
Blood on the snow
Under a blue sky