Sleepwalking through our spoon-fed lives... As evidence of times before in chapters long forgotten the reotting tombs of history are written by the victors empty words are staring back as paragraphs of power leave no traces of the toiler's fate (just one massacre to many-and none too late) All glory comes from death desensitized in unreal fiction forms our leaders never die- it's the working poor that fight their wars It is written? It is rotten- their truth is dead and rotting With decades passing and nothing changing the hourglass grows empty again tunnel visions and career clowns send ivory towers crumbling down the pulse is fading the axe is falling another tragedy unfolds the moral standard the status quote the carcasses of millions left in their wake The paper bound in books that glorify the acts of murderers will burn just like all empires that have come before 500 years dead...cold and efficient they carry out their plan-indoctrinate the youth to the textbook wasteland as patriots empowered they coronate themselves breed us on their lies and they feed us to the wolves