Devices for Drugging Thought

from by Canons

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We head to work at our dead end job
drink the poison when the day is done
We take what we're given

The Wolves became slaves to superstition,
pumped their young full of fear...
'til there’s nothing left to dream

Be the one, blessed with ideas, not words
Shed inherited stigmas from birth.
shattered your corporal husk

Phoneys

They sing a sermon for the weak of mind
picked pocketed on bended knees
holidays, hopes and prayers

Do you feel your spirits something real?
you've got your reasons
and I've got time
Hideous murderer, a ruthless fake
homophobic, fucking racist
an arrogant, vapid construct,
obsessed by your own creations

unshakeable
confidence
in their own
righteousness

a population
starved to death
some words in a tome
won't cut it

THE CRESENT
is no longer fertile
left instructions in Aramaic

CRIPPLED
pinned down by a cross
as the hopeless wail

CONFESS
you protect rapist
and should be locked up

MY ADVICE
I don't want my family, or my friends
to be like you

Bring us
the teacher

The gadfly

Bring us
the teacher

The gadfly

Show all
the cynics

The benefactors

Bring us
the teacher

The gadfly

You seek frauds and faith healers,
a life of servitude.
the hymns --
that they've murdered too

They conquered cultures
hid it in mosques
in temples and
graveyards

Poisioned water supply
bring the second coming,
indulgences for
wealthiest

They burned the books
They killed the teacher

credits

from Who Knew the Storm, released August 17, 2010

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