Wednesday, November 01, 2006


Who knows where the time goes?
Phones ring and fiends sing
And nobody puts down a deposit.
The TV talks incessantly in color
While politicians show their teeth and fester
And never say a thing.
As usual, our hearts remained unmoved
And only our bowels tremble.
The men in charge are Murderers.
The men in charge are Us.

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)