The Ghost of Stalingrad

Try to understand

There is no distance

You can run

No stoic mountains

You could climb

To harness gods within the sun

So fret about your idle whims

And give yourselves to my distractions

To my propaganda proxy wars

And post-truth imperfactions

I don’t ask for your allegiance

No robotic pledge of trust

I simply augment every dissident

And leave the cogs to rust

In this machine there is no dream

I do not oversee production of

No show trial injustice served

Without the laws I am above

The spoils system you created

In archaic words brittanic

In the butchers venerated

By your livestock market panic

Then the walls to seal you off

So no escapegoating the rapist

Then suspicions are diverted

Like a papist in your play list

Now to bow before the master

Whose ancestors were the slaves

While I disown the private property

Amassing in the graves

And in a state of omnipresent

Fear, unending terror reigns

Welcome to the revolution

All you’ve left to lose, your chains