Second Coming
Cancel the second coming
Yeats didn’t know what rough beast hath awoken
The world is crumbling
And Atlas’s Oreo is dissolving in milk
Bring back the rapture
But have the sinless cast stones
Lest the sinners be stoned
You like it when they do it that way
Well, at least that’s what she said
But you can't help your ignorance
So instead just “oh snap” ‘d your mother
Because your father the milkman won’t tolerate the way you talk back
Keep your penny for a thought
Because I asked for a dime bag
Death be not be proud
Because people make it easy
Send back this beast of burden
To have its defects worked out in the shop
A dime bag for a thought
Nevermind, in this word some knowledge should be free
A little too late
Because you've sold your soul to the devil for twice the eBay price
That change is the kind of future you find in your purse
Wake up from your broken dreams
And smell the apocalypse around you already
God is good but he’s forgotten about us
Left the future for the results of the past
Now you want a rebate on the present
But they out up a sign says 'no refunds'
All you can do is
Step back from the television set
And take your humanity back
The revolution will not be televised
Reality will tell you no lies
But instead you're looking to the skies
I dare you to try and buy your heaven
Dare you to bribe your way through the pearly gates
What exactly would you give to the man who made everything?
This one whose final judgment you believe determines all things
Give up;
Forget the second coming
Work off your sins with alms to feed the needy
Alms to feed the “feed me”
Alms to feed the hungry
The revolution is green and sticks like
Peanut butter to the roof of your mouth
This revolution is sickly sweet and spills easily
But we ask that you please not cry over spilled milk
My revolution is not a taxi to take you where you want to go
So hold back your rapscaleration
Before you ask, the revolution will have no candy
Look at this man; thinks he can high step the presidency in cowboy boots
See this fool thinks his alms will feed the greedy
Cancel the second coming
Because there will be no drum roll
Forget what you’ve learned and unexpect the expected;
Cut the red carpet
Because the revolution comes in tin roofs and shanties
This is no episode of I love the 60's
Because this time we're selling the proletariat into slavery
Regardless of the questions you ask
There will be fire, oh yes
There will be fire
Walk to the beat of the infinite drumroll
As thundered out by the people's army
Cancel the television
The revolution will be live
© 2008 Eugene Aarons-Cooke