Scion - Penal Colony

Stumbling familiar

Came the have-not;

Juiced and pathetic

With cratered log

Books and the lining

The destics

Of his attachments

No more aging

Living like the farm

Used to live in the now

Perched atop the front door

Crashed the party

Brought to the phony monarchy

Brought in with the guardian note

Have-not brought in the step man

Banging pots and pans

Pulling at my children’s hands

Stole my Holy Ghost

When the scion

Comes around

Turning pyramids

Upside down

Feeding the rag

And the ray tube

Waits a little longer

Staled the air

Scion

Scion

Scion

Scion

Spouting waste at

Third world poverty

Chewing steak and

Snorting taxes

Representative

Of our mania

Our panic

OUR HANGOVER

Fuel for the stations

Of the cross

WELCOME TO THE END

OF AMERICA

Scion

Scion

Scion

Scion

When the scion

Comes around

Turning pyramids

Upside down

Feeding the rag

And the ray tube

Waits a little longer