The drones
made of skin and bone
The drones
with no minds of their own
The drones
entrapped in their homes
tied to their tvs and cellular phones

I see their pride in ignorance
both jailer and keeper
Who are enjoying this sentence
as the bankers run the meter

In a prison they were fooled to build
and gladly accepting
To pay their homage to the guild
who commanded its erecting

As the wardens stuff your faces
with superstition
and their pockets
with the source of their fruition

The drones
programmed to obey
The drones
believe all that they say
The drones

Right from the womb
  taught to march to the tune
      straight into the tomb


The drones
keep questioning me
The drones
will not leave me be
The drones
made an outcast of me
for failing to extinguish my humanity