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The Pied Piper on a Pale Horse

I am somewhere over the rainbow and under the influence on the path to enlightenment.

A historic guilt trip, an idealistic dream catcher who should have known better.

I am apple pie on a repossessed windowsill, and the Holy Ghost choking on evangelical hellfire.

I am the autistic, neurodivergent medication dumpster inhaling inflated gas fumes.

I saw a wounded soldier with a patriotic lobotomy dressed in a cardboard sign shaking tin cans drunk in

Paradise Alley.

I am Woody Guthrie strumming barbed wire off the rails singing copycat folk songs.                                 

I am the anarchist entrepreneur cashing in on ideology at a punk rock merch booth.

I heard the sermon of the false prophet echo through the crumbling ruins of a forgotten empire.

I am the venom smeared on the malignant tongue of political discourse lost in translation.

I am the playground assassin’s manifesto and the suicide pact with a smoking gun.

Singing ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down.

We all fall down tonight.

Darkness fogs the dauntless road,

Swindle saviors slinging shallow hope.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

I am the blood of Jesus Christ and chemical salvation fighting for the soul of the heartland.

I am those glorious golden arches and the discount artery-clogging fist of unchecked capitalism.

But there's a table where different people don't wanna’ sit together, but instead they'd rather argue while

they steal each other’s dinner.

I am Betsy Ross sewing the revolution with a hypodermic needle on Skid Row.

I am the flashy propaganda merchant spitting vomit from the depths of prime time headlines, killing your grandparents.

I’m a strawman intellectual dancing in the graveyard of academia. If I only had a brain.

I am starvation abusing myself in front of a rearview mirror, and it's all becoming clearer.

I am Annie Rexia collapsing graceful on a fashion runway…but I'll be famous someday.

I am suffocated by manufactured perfection and its beauty, it's beautiful, it's beauty full of itself.

I am tears and smeared eyeliner without the makeup, and I am exposing myself as a new art form.

Singing ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down.

We all fall down tonight.

Black winds ride the rising tide,

Fountains of redemption running dry.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

I am Lady Liberty with a razor and a slit wrist bleeding freedom onto a melting ice cap.

I am Uncle Sam caught red handed spitting on the ashes of the American dream.

I am the face of a spinning compass soaked in the shame of a lost boy who’s afraid to be a man.

I saw a skeleton Gestapo tipping the scales of justice wrapped in a burning flag.

I am the gluttonous personification of the Jeffersonian vision overdosing in a Virtual Reality helmet;

a nameless, monetized, processed, plastic-brand cash grab pimped in the abandoned Valley of God.

I am the sundown vulture perched on the bleached bones of the fallen pilgrim crossing the border.

I am the devil in a peyote Cadillac feasting on the flesh of the zealots impaled outside the Garden of Eden.

I'm the black death rattle in the season of the witch, and the plague rats scratching at the casket lids.

I am Robin Hood buried alive in a Wall Street bank vault at the foot of a golden throne.

Singing ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,                                                                             

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down.

We all fall down tonight.

Angels sound the trumpets’ song.

Shadows paint the shape of things to come.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

I am the opinionated sugar baby with narcissistic tendencies lip syncing synthetic virtue going viral.

I am the game show contestant and the complacent consumer with swollen eyes shackled by the glow of media.

I am the voting booth and the validation badge and the Pledge of Allegiance to the torn wings of democracy. 

I saw a "Keep Out"  sign on the front lawn of middle-class privilege disguised as progressive utopian empathy.

I am educated by the power structure constructs and the contradictions of Post Modernism collapsing under the weight of meaningless chaos.

So, while you burn the world in a desperate attempt to be heard, I struggle to find the words to convince you that Love is the only radical act of rebellion.

And at the crossroads of tomorrow when anger and fear become our common bonds, I wish to be a voice of reason.

Is selflessness just selfishness justifying itself? Or is it just my ego talkin’?

Yeah, is it just my ego talkin’?

‘Cause in the end I am but another pedestal saint who will succumb to being human.

Because I';m nobody's hero and I will disappoint you.

But I don't mean to.

And I don';t want to

I am confused.

I am angry.

I am numb.

But I am honest.

I am confused.

I am angry.

I am numb.

But I am honest.

Singing ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down,                                                                             

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down.

We all fall down tonight.

Final chapter, all she wrote

Curtains close, that's how the story goes.

Ring-around-the-rosie and we all fall down

We all fall down…

The Pied Piper on a pale horse.