“My Modicum Of Free Sentiment”
Where is America, you white devil?
Down in old glory, in a helluva
blinding blitzkrieg of bling.
And you, my flaming sullen Greece,
not so far behind,
with nothing to the table
did you bring?
Ah yes, democracy,
in which all votes go to the usual swine,
and to their constituents
trickle down the usual piss, vinegar and aftershave-cum-wine.
Where are you, my modicum of free sentiment?
My darling toast with the most …
Will you raise your glass to your ’tis of thee?
Will you raise your boot and stomp on “of thee I sing”?
Where are you my spirit, dead, buried and gone?
Where are you my friend, who never belonged?
– I’m dying in birth pangs, never to be reborn.
– I’m lying in the carnage of the hopelessly scorned.
And all of you not mocking the holier-than-thou,
twas never a reason more sacred than “now”.
But onward walk no-ones triumphantly,
as the fallen take a bow …
To the march of trendy tyrants
and the bleats of other sheep
seeking a whimsical cash cow.
All is never lost …
for the lost are never found.
Hidden are the live-streamers …
In shackles cower the clowns.
We are not all in this together.
We are not all heavenly bound.
And as for me,
I’ve decided just to be.
Lordy, lordy, glory be!
Wherever I am,
wherever I be ….
neither hallowed nor humbled,
just desperately me.
Neither to the march …
Neither to the dance …
Neither to commence, to renounce nor repent.
Nevermore ardent in the desire just to be,
older, wiser, poorer and most likely hell-bent.
And ye so confused, what will it be?
Do what you will or do what you please.
Do what you want and sow your own seeds.
Just do me favor and don’t bother me, please.
There but for the grace of God go the spoils …
There but for a moment is my modicum Of free sentiment.