Paradise built on deceitful intentions upon sacred ground
Now a ghost town
Abandoned buildings with faded 4 sale
Signs blacked out windows
Hopeless white washed across
Silence is deafening save for
The occasional seagull
Waste deposit
Onto the backs of a pack of homeless men and women
Sleeping upon piss sperm stained floors inhaling dust
Against broken machines
That drove the economy
In its heyday but they
Were last in line for government bailouts...

As the sun rises cut to
Picket lines of blue collar workers
Railing against injustice as
Their bosses corrupt packed up
Took off during the night to
Destination unknown forgot to remark
That they changed the locks
And don't expect severance pay
We're forced to look ahead to our future
But don't worry, your day will be coming soon
Ayn Rand couldn't write it any better
Sympathies to your wives, family and children
Christmas ain't coming this year
If you believe in Santa Claus
Here's the proof that he doesn't exist
Miss one opportunity and you'll suffer a lifetime...

Fade out to a black screen
Voice over of frustration, sadness
Desperation and questions of doubt linger
What we will do?
How will we survive?
I feel like driving a spine
Through their sordid, evil hearts
Just before I drink cyanide
As we're paying for overindulgence
Up to our eyeballs in debt
Rolling around in mud
Symbolically dirty, Oh Lord
I want to be clean!

But complaining is falling on deaf ears
Inspired speeches won't change the undeniable fact
That we're going to hell in a hand basket
Cries, gunshots, screams and a short reprieve of silence
Before the tanks roll in
Would a revolution ever occur?
Asked the son to the father
The father shook his head
"Thought I would be in heaven already but
Them vultures are coming fast and they're hungry
Spiritual fast or gorge fest
Don't matter, it's time
We get moving before
The Apocalypse comes to pass
Cause We're in this together
So wake me up when it's over."

P-Dec 11, 14, 2008.