I see lost souls on cruise control
Conscience rarely reaching for pedals
With denial for bumpers
Wih hearts simply pumpers
Plump with distraught corpuscles

I see towers fall, systematically fall
Brought down by internal explosions
I see souls powderized
Unpersonified
By incestuous corporate devotions

I see battlefields where harvest congeals
Dark and thick as oil they die for
Where vultures work their claws
Turn soaked camouflage
Into script only Death can decipher

No hindsight for Christian Right Fright
That combines Halloween with Easter
They candy coat their witch hunt
Each lie melts in your mouth
And Liberty wonders if they'll release her



c) Chris Butler 2006