A raised hand clenched in a fist
Asserts that some ideal will persist
A face peeking from a crowd
So frightened to see
what is not allowed
See them with their masks and clubs
grinding the resistance down to nubs
condemning all of us who slacked
and let what little was left intact
get stacked in the museum behind glass
an image of a dog attacking the mass
of those who had enough still left to lose
All of us who history’s pages peruse
I got no ambition to be a leader
try my best not to be a cheater
I must speak as it comes to mind
even if the questions leave me in a bind
Judge not but please go ahead
judge me with the blankets pulled up in bed
judge me hiding my head in the sand
judge me please don’t judge the band
only a session no significance at all
only an observation of a thousand things that stall
Merely a riddle left unsolved
Of the way the whole damn thing dissolved
What is the song of the day?
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