It wasn't me. You can't prove anything.


2011-03-11

My Leader

For a leader, you are a poor follower.
For a person who cars about people, you don't care.
For the one to whom people turn, your are incapable.
For the great leader, you are small.

The people trust you.
The rich and poor alike have their future in your hands.
The law listens to you.
The free feel your touch round their throats.

You do not know to whom you answer.
You answer without question.
You jump and dance and lie and don't care.
You know you don't know who pulls your strings.

When the time comes to answer.
When the god you raise comes calling.
When those strings pull tight round your arms and legs.
You will fall same as every one else.

You will wine and cry, same as me.
You will stand in line for bread.
You will loose your children to poverty and decay.
Would you leave anyone with power alone on the day or reckoning?

The only people who win will be those who submit.
The only money will be food and shelter.
The only power will be strong hands and a club.
The only freedom is to follow the rules.

You will follow the rules.
You will stand in line for bread.
You will loose your children to poverty and decay.
You will be no different than me, my leader.

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