Vans come and vans go
Through godless streets of violence
Through angry crowds who thirst
For blood

Eat the weak on Easter
And feast upon the poster
Children in the garden of Eden
Or maybe rest upon the rock
In Babylon

Freedom isn't free
As we line up, cattle feed
Imbibing of the hate machine
A big blue F that desiccates
Human experience
And makes it bite-size
To represent the life-size
For our ******* pint-size
Pea-brained attempts
At *******

We all stand alone
Atop the heap of corpses
Left in our wake
And smile for the cameras
In our pajamas
Weak-willed
Like those who came before