We herd them
Cage them
Bathe and feed them
All the while
Hiding our intentions
Behind lying smiles
And deceiving eyes
We sacrifice their lives!
So send the lambs
To the slaughter
Let their blood be spilled
So we can keep
All that we hold dear
Costing us nothing
But gaining everything
All their friends
And family
Can be damned for all we care
All that matters
Is the wealth,
The material things
That we guard so tightly
So send the lambs
To the slaughter
Let their blood be spilled
So we can keep
All that we hold dear
Costing us nothing
But gaining everything
But in the end...
We have no lambs
No scapegoats, no martyrs
Nothing to save us
But ourselves
Where will we be
Ten years from now?
I don't think I want to find out...
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1 comment:
I am happy, probably the wrong word, to find out I am not alone in the invisible stakes. I thought that the awkward silence was a phenomenon unique to me. I also feel like a ‘that girl’. I get the double whammy of, ‘ Dude, it’s that girl. You know, the one with the dead family’. I seriously have overheard that. How, in this day and age, can people continue to be so bloody thick?
Vyolet
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