SYMPTOMS

SYMPTOMS
1992?

Outside, inside, draw the lines
Illusions that our hate defines
Commercials feed our TV minds
Symptoms of a sickened time

Us and them, we stand apart
Incantations, souls depart
They use evil like an art
Symptoms of a sickened heart

You and I, we pace the day
Upon machines and ebb decay
Screened ideals we portray
Symptoms of our mass dismay

Remedies to put your mind at ease
They find a cure, then invent the disease

Love and sex and jesters fools
Everybody stands as tools
The camera on the victim drools
I want the one who holds the jewels

White whale to have not and have
Don’t call me Ishmael, call me Ahab