Ugly and disappointing colors are what they're revealing
It's a challenge not to fall victim to the deceptive deceiving
This world in which all are tirelessly scheming

Corrupt messages intended to disillusion our modes of sensory
The laws of this dishonesty are rarely discriminant
The unlimited reach of the effects are constantly consistent
Putting current views and outlooks in legitimate jeopardy

Originality is one thing they've made a hobby of stealing
Dark, ***** secrets require intelligent attempts at concealing
This society in which all are tirelessly scheming

Naivity is an automatic assumption of all that is innocent
You can witness their successes expending minimal energy
The fraud is hazardous; failure is certainly imminent
One would desire that outcome sooner than later, as it leaves recipients feeling elderly
With any form of luck, more will come to share this sentiment

Endless efforts put toward developing façades generally appealing
Aiming to have candor and valor on the knees, kneeling
This reality in which all are tirelessly scheming

Sturdy quilts to shield clarity are woven most expertly
Time being tested passed slowly- increment by minute increment
Blueprints to fool the majority will be, expectedly, intricate
What was the original reality has been altered into a distant, doubted memory

Any and all accomplished legitimitacy sends them all reeling
There's always a "crisis" with which we should be dealing
*Our universe in which all are tirelessly scheming

I’m not going to make money by
Creating some clever gadget.
That costs too much for advertising
To fit in my future budget.
I’m not going to write a book yet
Because they are hard to sell.
I decided against self-help seminars.
Sitting through those is hell.

I’m not going to learn hairdressing
So I can be a pricey hair ******.
I’m not going to write recipes to show
A hundred ways to use a blender.
I ruled out auditioning for **** flicks
I’m far to shy for all that.
I won’t be trying to make viral videos
Of adorable fuzzy little cats.

You won’t be hearing any hit songs
Written by me, myself and I.
I can’t carry a tune and can’t rhyme
So, right away I won’t even try.
I can’t paint and I can’t draw at all
So, I won’t be a world-class artist.
I won’t become a rocket scientist
In math I was never the smartest.

I'm not going to start some con game
And leave them all in the lurch.
Well, in a manner of speaking I am,
Because I'm starting a church.
I’ll spend tons of money on my home
And make a big flashy cathedral
Then spend lots of time bragging
How it’s all so very spiritual.

People will send me lots of cash thinking.
That will get them into heaven.
I’ll make more money selling God to them
Than owning a thousand 7-11s.
I’ll only need to convince my followers that
I have the get-out-of-hell-free card;
That I am the path to understanding God
And that just can’t be that hard.