Only taking false prophets at the moment...

Without meaning, stumbling and confused.

Searching with eyes covered and closed with yellow tape from the last policemans ball.

Tasting baton and cracked freedom ringing in my mind,

I lay my sign down to read between the lies.

Security at the cost of individually, 

progressive pillow talk as leaders spend my last dime.

What is this all for if prisoner is all you see when you look in the mirror,

Slave in reflection is meaningless without a smile and a word of good job done.

Times they are a changing as social engineers design the next revolution,

wanting control in our rebellious ways.

Human against human as the tears fall in the gas,

elderly arrested for speaking their minds.

Pickets are drawn like badly designed signs of the apocalypse,

worlds always ending to sell you their new book.

A Wilcock manipulates the underdeveloped heart,

as rows of people line up for the messiah role.

Only taking false prophets at the moment...