Rung to turn out in their
droves and masses
Rung to stick in dirty homes
slow as molasses
Rung to the entertainment
what fresh hell
All collapse at the peal
of the fool bell
Lacking wherewithal
to battle the capital
lacking resistance to
the lie they might have it all
failing empathy
discipline or sleep
truly was it written
they were lost lost sheep
I guess we'll try
not quite give up altogether
maybe wake up a little bit
When we hit the really crazy weather
maybe not the last act
though who could tell
And I have a strong premonition
the last laugh'll go to the fool bell
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