Robots and Zombies are all I see
Like some poor horror or sci-fi movie of a bygone age
Their lives drip away like blood,
Sucked by a colossal faceless vampire
That hungers for me
It hunts me in the night, screaming like a banshee
Demanding my soul, to quash it like so many others
I see people, towns, cities, countries,
A whole world,
Ravished in its path
But it only makes me BURN
My heart is torn by the plight
Of a million brothers that my hypocrisy
Allows to die every day
Some label me callus,
But can a criminal’s heart not bleed
For those he victimizes?
As I play my and in the vast slaughter
Of children who can never understand death
Only the fear and the pain that will come to them
Wars are fought between my compatriots,
Over whether this is right or wrong
When it is so obviously wrong
But I stand away
And I BURN
Repugnant skeletons in filthy rags
Cavort on runways, selling you a way of life,
Reminding me that beauty may be skin-deep,
But in their case, so is bone
Is a brand new shirt worth the cost of an empty mind,
And a color-coordinated soul?
Greed-fueled fashions that ensure
Only the richest have the self-esteem to succeed
And I rip down those rags, kindling, incinerated,
As I BURN
The siren-wail of the Great Hypnotizer
Beckons you to forget all you’ve seen or heard,
And will you be strong against it,
As it soothes you with sweet music?
Or leaves you wondering who will be deflowered tonight
Quietly, it offers, offers, offers
Offers to sell back your soul,
Held by a genii in this bottle
But what will happen when you discover
The golden bottle is empty?
Will you be like me?
As I BURN
Through a 27-inch looking glass to our dreams,
We see the magic of mindless faces,
Who alleviate all of our problems
In a nice bisection of time
Making us forget that the only guarantees
Are death and taxes
As long as the jester can make us giggle,
But it can only die,
And like the phoenix in its ashes,
I will BURN
Ancient squawk-boxes in plastic hair
Silently preach racism in far away lands
Claiming that the only way we can defeat the
Black or Brown or Yellow Menace
Is if we support the army of materialism,
And it’s endless funds
Sucked from our sleeping pockets
Because everyone knows that might makes right
And we are the rightiest of all
Love it or leave it, death to those who question,
The war is the Way!
The war makes me BURN
So eager, the detached youth step into the meat grinder
Because it is somehow noble to be slaughtered
For dirt
Or a man you will never meet
And trust in the wickedness of an enemy
Who can only shake and cry
And stink of frightened urine when no one is looking,
Whose finger tenses on the trigger,
When he spots his enemy
Worried if this is really best for him,
In the name of land or god or money
We watch our morals BURN
Now, in a land where justice is a man
Who can be purchased like any cheap whore
An innocent man dies to their bungling
While the guilty rich in paper castles
Can pay the sweet lady to close her eyes
And let them walk among the free
Calling retribution on a marauder
Living only in their heart
I see only a land where no one is innocent
And there are no happy endings
And I want to see it BURN
On obvious ploy
Martyring a man confessed to rape and kidnap
Though of murder, he may be innocent
While in a land not far off,
A most-likely innocent man awaits his pale horse
A political prisoner, known only to radicals
A voice for the fallen rots away,
A slave to a machine that would rather
Deify a monster
Than let someone hear a scion’s words
But when the time comes to take his life
They’d best be prepared,
For they will see their cities BURN
Upon the end of a life
That has never seen the light of day
You mount your greatest cross
You would rather see that life evolve in despair
Abused and poverty-stricken
Then, when the strain of your rape of rights
Bears down on that tender life
And it snaps like a twig
You, who demanded it’s life to go on
Will be so quick to demand its termination
So quick to see it BURN
When you are the straw that broke the camel’s back
You cannot let anyone know
Otherwise, the whole infrastructure will
Collapse on your head
Leaving you with not even a name
And how can you tell them you are the greatest
When there are no ears to hear you
Be quick to shift the blame
Heap it on the heads of the only ones that could help
The violence comes from them, violent words, violent notes
The violence is against you
It is in me
It makes me BURN
Whoring kings lead us like sheep leading a herd of shepherds
As we blindly enthrone them
As if we had no choice
Forfeiting our right to a bloodless regicide
That they gave us themselves
So that they can abuse the prizes of a glorified popularity contest
Based on the clothes they wear
And who can purchase the fruit of their loins
At the price of our freedom
And like our revolutionary forefathers,
Now I BURN
Forests, mountains and rivers are torn away,
In the name of a progress that everyone can see but me
Making way for Nazi-like factories of dehumanization
All in the name of the God of Envy
Who hungers like some obscene, phallic leech
Forcefully burying its self in history’s womanhood
Defragmenting doomed generations that let it happen
And my past is forgotten without question
Still, I BURN
How demeaning to both body and soul
That we have to live in a land where our only worth
Is what we keep on our hip
We drag about, less than slaves,
Who at least had their meals provided for them,
Where as we must collect a pittance to survive
Like beaten dogs
Seeking out a tiny scrap of food
Blinded by an ethic
That tells us to toil
And grind our lives away like so much garbage meat
At least those slaves didn’t choose that path for themselves
But it’s not my life, I choose to BURN
Like worms, so many guilty crawl
Looking for the hand of some benevolent spirit
To vindicate the lives they wasted
Instead, they find nothing but greed-whores
And silver-tongued serpents
Supping souls like blood from open wounds
A worldwide organization ordering the werewolves to feed
Turning on head all hopes and prayers
Of those who cannot fend for themselves
But I will not crawl or plead
I would rather BURN
In Heaven above, Jesus has looked down
He saw himself packaged, advertised and mass-marketed
He saw his teachings forgotten before they were implemented
And his honest name perverted
He saw a million enemies who had never met him
All clamoring for his blood
He turned his back
And locked the doors
And now we all shall BURN...
Like some poor horror or sci-fi movie of a bygone age
Their lives drip away like blood,
Sucked by a colossal faceless vampire
That hungers for me
It hunts me in the night, screaming like a banshee
Demanding my soul, to quash it like so many others
I see people, towns, cities, countries,
A whole world,
Ravished in its path
But it only makes me BURN
My heart is torn by the plight
Of a million brothers that my hypocrisy
Allows to die every day
Some label me callus,
But can a criminal’s heart not bleed
For those he victimizes?
As I play my and in the vast slaughter
Of children who can never understand death
Only the fear and the pain that will come to them
Wars are fought between my compatriots,
Over whether this is right or wrong
When it is so obviously wrong
But I stand away
And I BURN
Repugnant skeletons in filthy rags
Cavort on runways, selling you a way of life,
Reminding me that beauty may be skin-deep,
But in their case, so is bone
Is a brand new shirt worth the cost of an empty mind,
And a color-coordinated soul?
Greed-fueled fashions that ensure
Only the richest have the self-esteem to succeed
And I rip down those rags, kindling, incinerated,
As I BURN
The siren-wail of the Great Hypnotizer
Beckons you to forget all you’ve seen or heard,
And will you be strong against it,
As it soothes you with sweet music?
Or leaves you wondering who will be deflowered tonight
Quietly, it offers, offers, offers
Offers to sell back your soul,
Held by a genii in this bottle
But what will happen when you discover
The golden bottle is empty?
Will you be like me?
As I BURN
Through a 27-inch looking glass to our dreams,
We see the magic of mindless faces,
Who alleviate all of our problems
In a nice bisection of time
Making us forget that the only guarantees
Are death and taxes
As long as the jester can make us giggle,
But it can only die,
And like the phoenix in its ashes,
I will BURN
Ancient squawk-boxes in plastic hair
Silently preach racism in far away lands
Claiming that the only way we can defeat the
Black or Brown or Yellow Menace
Is if we support the army of materialism,
And it’s endless funds
Sucked from our sleeping pockets
Because everyone knows that might makes right
And we are the rightiest of all
Love it or leave it, death to those who question,
The war is the Way!
The war makes me BURN
So eager, the detached youth step into the meat grinder
Because it is somehow noble to be slaughtered
For dirt
Or a man you will never meet
And trust in the wickedness of an enemy
Who can only shake and cry
And stink of frightened urine when no one is looking,
Whose finger tenses on the trigger,
When he spots his enemy
Worried if this is really best for him,
In the name of land or god or money
We watch our morals BURN
Now, in a land where justice is a man
Who can be purchased like any cheap whore
An innocent man dies to their bungling
While the guilty rich in paper castles
Can pay the sweet lady to close her eyes
And let them walk among the free
Calling retribution on a marauder
Living only in their heart
I see only a land where no one is innocent
And there are no happy endings
And I want to see it BURN
On obvious ploy
Martyring a man confessed to rape and kidnap
Though of murder, he may be innocent
While in a land not far off,
A most-likely innocent man awaits his pale horse
A political prisoner, known only to radicals
A voice for the fallen rots away,
A slave to a machine that would rather
Deify a monster
Than let someone hear a scion’s words
But when the time comes to take his life
They’d best be prepared,
For they will see their cities BURN
Upon the end of a life
That has never seen the light of day
You mount your greatest cross
You would rather see that life evolve in despair
Abused and poverty-stricken
Then, when the strain of your rape of rights
Bears down on that tender life
And it snaps like a twig
You, who demanded it’s life to go on
Will be so quick to demand its termination
So quick to see it BURN
When you are the straw that broke the camel’s back
You cannot let anyone know
Otherwise, the whole infrastructure will
Collapse on your head
Leaving you with not even a name
And how can you tell them you are the greatest
When there are no ears to hear you
Be quick to shift the blame
Heap it on the heads of the only ones that could help
The violence comes from them, violent words, violent notes
The violence is against you
It is in me
It makes me BURN
Whoring kings lead us like sheep leading a herd of shepherds
As we blindly enthrone them
As if we had no choice
Forfeiting our right to a bloodless regicide
That they gave us themselves
So that they can abuse the prizes of a glorified popularity contest
Based on the clothes they wear
And who can purchase the fruit of their loins
At the price of our freedom
And like our revolutionary forefathers,
Now I BURN
Forests, mountains and rivers are torn away,
In the name of a progress that everyone can see but me
Making way for Nazi-like factories of dehumanization
All in the name of the God of Envy
Who hungers like some obscene, phallic leech
Forcefully burying its self in history’s womanhood
Defragmenting doomed generations that let it happen
And my past is forgotten without question
Still, I BURN
How demeaning to both body and soul
That we have to live in a land where our only worth
Is what we keep on our hip
We drag about, less than slaves,
Who at least had their meals provided for them,
Where as we must collect a pittance to survive
Like beaten dogs
Seeking out a tiny scrap of food
Blinded by an ethic
That tells us to toil
And grind our lives away like so much garbage meat
At least those slaves didn’t choose that path for themselves
But it’s not my life, I choose to BURN
Like worms, so many guilty crawl
Looking for the hand of some benevolent spirit
To vindicate the lives they wasted
Instead, they find nothing but greed-whores
And silver-tongued serpents
Supping souls like blood from open wounds
A worldwide organization ordering the werewolves to feed
Turning on head all hopes and prayers
Of those who cannot fend for themselves
But I will not crawl or plead
I would rather BURN
In Heaven above, Jesus has looked down
He saw himself packaged, advertised and mass-marketed
He saw his teachings forgotten before they were implemented
And his honest name perverted
He saw a million enemies who had never met him
All clamoring for his blood
He turned his back
And locked the doors
And now we all shall BURN...
Wow, very heavy stuff, Paul!
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