Boot stomped moneymaker, Picasso-rearranged faces, razed acres
The prisoners they’ve taken, overnight made ancient
Given all the punishment they could take by agents
He stoops to say “Bite the pavement.”
Across thin ice, blithely skating
No escape’s what they’re saying
Lions once; now tamed, gentled, lamed.
More than a bit of truth around pizzagate
But they evade cages, they have their ways
Secret runways, hidden caves
Entire cities beneath the waves
The last man to make a brave statement
Came up like he’d been gnawed by caiman
Fingers displaced, face erased
Facts twisted, rearranged
To suit their message on the day
Shoot the messenger on his way
Smoke and soot, sky all grey
Shit-painted water stains the bay
Old bloodstains, can’t be scraped away.
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