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