Addiction to this
Way of life, this country pride,
While others love it

To the man who says he can't
When he just won't
You play chess with the best of us
because we are your chess pieces
I know you know how to play checkers
But your life is a game of chess with us
It's the poor you game
and we run after you doing your ***** work
You act like you are not intelligent
But the fools do your bidding
Pawns in your game
Just you look like you are not playing
Doesn't mean your not...

Yankee Doodle you’re a dope
And a brain-dead pigeon.
You elected a big mope
Who brought his villains with him.

Yank your doodle and keep it up
That should keep you busy.
Then we’ll all say look at him
He’s not worth much more, is he?

Yankee ******* went to DC
Just to make a fortune.
But his dreams of grandeur we
Found we can’t afford them.

Yankee Doodle is not one guy
Turns out it’s half a nation.
Now we have the piper to pay
And he will have his ration.

Yankee Doodle, bunch of fools
Easy to mislead them.
Now they have but fallow fields
And no good grain to feed them.

Yankee ******* feeds them lies
Says he’ll fix the whole thing.
Half the people said yes he will
The rest say who’s he kidding?

Yankee ******* is a man
Yankee Doodle's not one.
Yankee Doodle loves a fascist.
Omigod, they’ve got one!

Sure, I've ruined it again!
Follow me around like I'm the actual
And only problem. You'll eventually get yours!
So you think I'm the ultimate biggest of fools?

(Well, for once and for all, check yourself!)*

Nice people finish last, and there's nothing nice
About going around with personal problems, that I
Have to fit your personal standard, even when they
Are following all of the standard rules!

So far nothing new is happening.
This is just history repeating itself.
One day all love will cease to have meaning,
It will just be something you can purchase,
Like buying plot on the Moon or Mars,
Or war or knowledge or emotions or words,
We'll just pretend it's all real.
A strange, vain culture we've developed,
Why everything is a steal.
And we never learn, we live in fear, do the same
Ridiculous things that "work" over and over again,
Why you can see how it's just a valley of blades,
One day you will realize it's only a matter of when
Some will wind up getting left in the dust, others in the gray,
I've got a hunch that one day if we wait long enough,
Eventually we will wind up in the dark again.
There will again be hell to pay*

Only a matter of when...

I want to do something,
not for you,
something for me,
something gleaming with everlasting renown.

Throughout this fraction of life,
I have grazed this objective
like a lover's fingers
tracing the profound edge's
of the starving artist's spine;
I have tasted that moment of completion
but only in the smallest dose,
like that last drop
that collects around the bottle's rim.

I cannot say this life has been mediocre,
but I yearn for the exceptional.
I'm tired of seeing lesser fools
idolized by fools more talented than them.
I'm tired of the chorus,
let me write a new verse.

And though the greatest agony I bear
is that I may never reach that fabled nirvana,
I hold close the dreams
that make believers out of fools like me.

"You can buy happiness..."
Says the so-called "life expert,"
Families always going on big vacations
With plenty of money, this makes people "happy,"
I listen to this and other things I've read,
Telling people that there's an end of days,
For our sins someone will strike us all dead.
I for one think I've heard it said-one too many times,
They will never overcome this truth which wise men tell!
Always remember, remember well,
One mans heaven is another mans hell.

This is the tale, too often told
Of the idiots and the bums
And why those silly fools applaud
Whenever the apocalypse comes.
When things get good for common folk
Those in power get extremely worried.
They fear people will discover where lies
All the freedoms the rich people buried.

They were aware, while the populace isn’t
Of the changes they made in the laws;
That the elite put in place corruption
Where opportunity so recently was.
The poorly-named Conservatives
Quietly  un-conserved the truth
In order to tie the hands of men
And proselytize our gullible youth.

They vilified and imprisoned those
Among the un-bribed journalists
And went right on stealing from us
And having their illicit trysts.
Those who knew they could not rule
Unless they made villains of heroes
Bought their way to power with
Wiith numbers and many zeroes.

The populace was fed huge lies
About how horribly poor we all were,
Implying we were no better off
Than cavemen wearing only fur.
They taught the stupid among us
All of the idiots and the bums,
That they had the only answers,
That they could reverse the sums.

The idiots are easy to understand
They are looking for some answers.
The bums sit back and let it happen
And never get their stuff together.
The bums decide everything is fine
Until they lose their jobs and houses
And then the *** and idiot both;
What to do? He whines and grouses.

Meanwhile even more of the wealth
That it would take to fix our land
Rotated even more back and forth
Between the same few hands.
This is what happens every time,
This is the cycle that repeats here
Defeating progress and smashing hope
Year after Conservative year.