America

One world homogenised under one gun, America.

One world homogenised under one gun, America.

I’m not going to pale blue moon the sunset for you and tell you that coming storm isn’t going to bring with it, and leave in its wake, the black pain of burning more mothers sons and daughters again at the stake.

Like most I face tomorrow with a sense of disquiet, a lone foreboding that sits only all too well under the soul destroying blanket of pessimism, my optimism I hasten to add, almost as dead as yesterday’s dreamers.

Roll up, roll up, it’s the end of the world as we know it alright, and yes boys, girls and none gender-specifics, the monkeys are at it again, only this time around the crusaders have cluster bombs at their Christian happy finger tips.

And, “what do we want, when do we want it? now” “What do we want, when do we want it? now” maybe on every one’s lips, but its mere lip service if we cant effect real change with it and carry our contentions to the top of the hill.

I hope in the eleventh hour I’m proven wrong, but right now I get the distinct feeling that the majority can’t even hear the four horsemen cracking their whips let alone see them.

One world homogenised under one gun.

All hands on deck, Pink Punk about to set the picture…straight.

Mine is not America love/hate.

Mine is America monster.