Capital Rats 6: The Money Veins

The great dissection of the madness, the money veins, the favored, the paid up, the shake for the capital shakers.  With their shakedown.  The professional government class, the smooth operators, the best greasers on earth.  Handlers and aides, they circle and circle.  Guards watch and whisper and point.

Resign now, out of the way.  Your cover-up is uncovered.  Get back to your family, go do business, save the air, whatever the rationale.  Your time on the branch was a failure.  The snook came and snooked you good.

Got put to sleep, tranquilized, pacified.  Rolled the dice and lost, trusted the greedy, the self righteous, the pompous.  Experts got bought off, even doctors.  Those book advances spend nice.  Manipulation on the cheap.

Capital Rats 5: Laugh Them Off

 

Investigate each other, we don't care.  Meaningless at this point.  The sham is on display, this banana republic is about to get peeled.  Slip out while you can, it's gonna get slick quick.  Your gig is up, go peacefully, quietly, or not, either way.

The poor poor people, woe is them, on behalf of all kind, rational peoples.  Let's all help poor people, even if you're poor, help the poor.  And the needy!  The needy people need us, even the poor need to help the poor needy people.  The banana farmers are looking out for themselves, they won't help.

Until then, mute the airwaves, the soundwaves, and the glowwaves, there is no skipping out.  Time must occur.  Defiance and birds all the way, more of a fuck off than a fuck you.  End the wasting,  laugh them off.  Shrug.

Capital Rats 4: Avalanche Of Tyranny

That orbit you're on is different, let it ride.  Go back to the cruising mode.  There is no stopping the momentum, like an avalanche of tyranny.  Seen in open view, looking to bury the independent spirits.  Take a few with them as they melt away.

But independent spirits won't stay under the dirt, they will not be confined.  Their thoughts are with them, they know and understand.  Our house will be cleaned by late fall.  Detailed, fumigated, purified.  Ratted out.

Wining and dining the judges again, that capital eatery scene looks a bit stiff.  This is how it works, those robes are just for show.  More billing opportunities for the lawyers, the slow and lucrative justice industry.  Spin the wheel, get a prize.  Step right up.

Capital Rats 3: When Liberty Is Rationed

Let's get past this past tension.  This is the easy road, the road that goes forever.  Turning, spiraling, speeding, airborne.  Through or around anything.  Probably anything.

We won't know for sure, but scurry around to prove your points anyway, research, state facts, offer motives, determine.  Get your sleep.  Rest up for the adventure, the revolution is on.  Freedom is crispy cold.  Wake.

Think of future versions, when the meds kick in, when the hypnotic glow mushes minds to mash, when liberty is rationed.  Take your time, demand it back, feel it.  No curfew, no alarm, no calls, no attention.  Let the capital babies cry it out, leave them in their capital crib, they'll eventually pass out.  They will give it up.

Capital Rats 2: Silence Under Oath

 

Reality of the representation game.  Leading nothing but the fundraising charts, doing what they were bought to do.  Owned.  Little by little it all sells out.  Call the 1-800 number, sign up for a virtual townhall.

That rumble you hear, those horns, that's the liberty calls.  Independent minds don't really believe the farce.  Not really.  They protect their brain's wiring, their common sense receptors remain open, they think their own thoughts.  They reason.

The insiders ran the action, this we know.  Silence under oath says alot.  The staging was ideal, the red carpet was laid, evacuations proceeded.  No terms, no demands, a Capital tour of sorts.  One fatality, a tourist from California.

Capital Rats 1: Spitting On The Citizens

Please, please, for the sake of God itself.  This must end.  No more begging, silver tongue deviling, or declaring.  Do some ceremonies, feed some children, help some widows.  Quit blathering, drooling, and spitting on the citizens.  It's too creepy and pathetic to be sad.

Unleashed, the people cannot be disrespected for long.  Our system accounts for little, feeble tyrants.  The weak and woke won't get in another sucker punch.  We'll see it coming this time, their jaws will crack. Quick left jab followed by a right hook.

Weasels, go back to your holes.  Bore and bore.  Make a home for your dark winter.  Huddle around your small fire.  Eat your weak and young.

Get The Knots Out

Flash it back to 1999.  Take it from Prince, back when he went by Prince.  "If you didn't come to party, don't bother knocking at my door."  Shake it, go for the splits, fly into a raging guitar solo, demolish the fret board.  But don't ruin your hips, take care of your hips, keep your hips loose.  Get the knots out. 

The sad of the world can be sad if they want to, or have to.  It's sad.  Sad as hell.  Sad is all around, sad this, sad that.  Sad 'til midnight, sad 'til dawn, sad 'til we're all dead and gone.

The groans and moans of humans, hear it in the distance, it will fade away to nothing.  Dig the seasons of our lives.  Dig in, our time is now, and the days after now.  America ain't gone for good, keep it real.  Keep it loose and hippy.