The city glows, but do moral fires burn our homes? A sacrifice offered to your creed, negating any wisdom or belief. Are these reasons or excuses? Does low moral fibre not just yearn to be civil? Some do, but they're not like you... Are they not like you? I couldn't feign benevolence while I've shelter and sustenance, while billions are unfed, unclothed, uneducated and just hunting for a home. I'm perplexed by this. Such inhospitable and wry, fed to the brim, and this bullshit fashion uniform you're in. Would you have such asymmetric views, if you'd walked a mile?
The reckless light the streets, guilt diffused amongst a crowd of nameless faces. They razed in protest of fire. Would you crack your neighbour's eggs to make progress? This may be a sorry state, but haven't we all got enough on our plates?
Neglect breeds hate, and so men grow the stones to hurl a rock in another man's face. The backlash from yesteryear's baton gave birth to those who have no fear. 'Pigs' – the rival force.
A retort of spewing heads flocked to add to the pile. The only one with a valid point was shouted down with prejudice and pride. The aftermath broadcast of a period drama. He never tried to justify this funeral pyre, and made no excuse for what transpired. Just that a father's tale of beaten heads and broken bones on the road when sewn in certain homes might yield misguided ways to lament the dead. And wildfire spreads. We may forge with what we find but sometimes only a mind can sharpen a mind. Though a broken glass alibi in a first world state still reeks of white whine, the images they televised released a strange old man who'd never been let out. He stays home with the drapes unfurled, and shades in a map of the world in black and white.
from Social Media Circus,
released July 25, 2015
Recorded at Empora Studios by Mark Roberts
Mastered at Hell Yeah! Mastering.