Plastic gods

It becomes beholden

when plastic gods have spoken

there's little real utility

to subject one to brutality

even if it's civility

of one who feigns neutrality.

It all washes out with the soap

And the words from the man

on the end of the rope,

hiss as the air leaves his body.

"never know what might happen"

You hear, was it him?

Or the heart full of fear

that you heard?

Or the cries of a bird as it flies

Flat, into a pane of glass.

Is this the weird look

I've been waiting to see?

All eyes on the drama of mystery.

It eventually appears on all our faces

No matter what colour

or from all kinds of places

All we need to know

Is our presence, just for show

We ride the tail of the machine

Look about at what there is to see

And to be the best that we can be

Until we see the awkward truth

One they hid right from our youth

Santa's dead, he never was

And you have come now because

You want your due, and good for you

But already unsteady, already taboo

There's little here we have to gain

So why not jump back on the train

And thanks so much for dropping by

Now please exit, swiftly die

When you're fucked, that's really it

Worth no more than a piece of shit

Actually shit is worth much more

Good for growing, spread it as manure

Unlike you, shit's quite good

Raise more cash than you ever could