Oh, migrant solemnity Take away this moment of horror From us who wear wool socks Who present expansive expositions Within seven seconds Who replicate Roman gluttony VIPs of the vomitorium And **** room Remove this curse From which we suffer A morning of obligation Expel our fright Of the morning Clear away the white light Millions of beams Of metamerism Us Them We and our igneous Lapardian bed Our feet, callowness And our shed Composed murmurs Delicate sternness Will reject them We were once facetious Had condescending ways They'd believe us And remained stranded on unmapped cays We have yet to gain The downpour The desert desires But have been cast and thrown Unforgiven and disowned Enslavement resides in hungry empty pockets With politics and corporation cracking the whip In this oligarchy, capitalist catastrophe Backed by a national Dry spell We're laying face up On the floor of the ocean Floating to the top Of a wine glass We've done what we could What have you done to us Here we go Cold