The nothing moves inoxerably forward
It continues to expand
Dull and sad they march
It's all going to plan
Accepting the double speak
Unaware of the erosion
The smothering of speech
As the beast gobbles onwards
Taking and tightening
Unbelievablebly frightning
I'd happily accept a tin foil crown
In the face of all this
With the word 'fool' emblazoned
And a pointed tip
I'd wear it loud
Around town and be proud
Be glad to know for sure
That I'm just mad
Just another crackpot
And that isn't this
It's just this and that.