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Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Social Price of Freedom

Let me tell you the worst part of being
a flirt, a pervert, a demon...
They converge on you from all sides
They need to see, to feel, to touch this heathen
They need to know that it really is possible to put a face on pure evil

To be able to crush once and for all that pest of free thinking

I think im having apocalyptic visions
That I am forever reading
Like renaissance paintings
Which seem devoid of the oppression
going on in the context of which they were made

Can you understand why I am running away?
The same reason the Earth runs from the sun
In an equidistant arc from whence it rotates


I believe, my tormentors, that we have become codependent in this place
In this courtroom full of Judges when there should really only be one
But I'll still give you all a chance to save face
Over a macrocosmic therapy session that you call your respective religions

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