sleep now in the wake of multinational corporations super billionaire role models of the bourgeois society stealing fortunes, giving back a small amount of it as charity a reward to the people of the benefactors choice philanthropy, tax evasion, a pr account write off and whether you’re a labour politician or a union official worker, protest singer, left intellectual there’s a thousand reasons to join the mammon freak show ego, ego, ego, ego ch: sleep now in the wake of multinational corporations greed, greed, greed, greed rage against the machine moved to live in malibu beach preaching for the unconverted jenna jamesson and charlie sheen billiejoe got kicked out crying from every punk place until mtv came along and saved their green ass day yes, just like bad religion, they got rich but it’s scraps compared to what the corporations getting out of it products are made and marketed to sell for profit poster boys offended by this? gosh, that’s just stupid ch: financial groups interest in multinational corporations includes profits from organised crime, hedge funds, drugs and guns companies and products are valued according to set profit margins and dividends to the shareholders from the company’s earnings product placement in corporations metaverse tabloid world, free market, all out commerce the higher level of sales, the better the product is known the advertising’s on the brain washing echelon ch: repeat, repeat, repeat, to make it stick propaganda, court jesters, paid false prophets sell love and peace, invest in hate and war proclaim revolution and support the world order

good guys wear black i’ve done good and some not so good, well things I wished I took and others give back maybe I’m off to heaven, maybe to hell i’ve got friends on both sides of the track good guys wear black there are people that hates me and some, I hate them back it’s good to know who’s your enemy in this worlds’ out of whack i met my true love, she was married then to once a flute player in leftöver crack i had to steal her, she let it happen 40 years now in the same Cadillac good guys wear black despite my name, I never cared for gold or the fame, it never stuck lived to die young, but wanted to get old to hear the ending of the sound track a job well done is balm to the soul makes up for every setback forgiveness is not a gods call it’s kindness to yourself good guys wear black

know your enemy, smash the system in the footsteps of our ancestors slaves, serfs and have nots exploited by oppressors and despots know your enemy, smash the system they want us to play by their rules bourgeois arena, liberal game as long as we lose or they’ll change them know your enemy, smash the system smash

working for lundin oil they come from pig creek they come from pig creek tongue in cheek they come from pig creek money, guns, power in exchange for protection and military aid natural recourses extracted by slaves from capitalism to totalitarian states ch: columbus new clothes columbus new oaths working for lundin oil mr bildts soldiers of fortune they come from pig creek they come from pig creek mission accomplished they come from pig creek attacking and killing civilians raping, looting, torturing and abducting children bombing churches, market places, hospitals burning fields, forced relocations and the award for best corporate social responsibility goes to the emperor’s naked

xpchc everyone one knows reliable everyone enough close predictable it’s a question of expectations combined with limitations ch: the political’s personal we are what we do the personal’s political as in fuck u, fuck u, fuck u no one’s letting nobody down / everyone’s letting everybody down it's we and only we that can put us down / let down let downers, let down let downers just a question of misguided trust / the eleventh time, it’s no longer a mistake a thought error made entirely by us / no faith, no faith, no no no no faith ch: the political’s personal we are what we do the personals political as in fuck u, fuck u, fuck u the personal's political sex, drugs and rock and roll the political’s personal so fuck all, fuck all, fuck all ch: the political’s personal we are what we do the personal’s political as in fuck u, fuck u, fuck u the personal's political we called our bluff the political’s personal just fuck off, fuck off, fuck off

license to kill (private care) all in the name of profit, private care the contract goes to the lowest bidder reasonableness are never considered no impact assessment, nor control tax cuts for the rich is the overall goal all in the name of profit, private care license to kill to kill all in the name of profit, private care short staffed, uneducated, cheap personnel who gets the blame when it goes to hell while the management are promoted for profits, unusually high making careers, profit over lives all in the name of profit, private care license to kill to kill

o hell sent (in a good place) pack the padel racquet, ride an electric bike towards the tattoo parlour, for to look alike hate muslim terrorists, grow long beards foo fighters playing in your ears all eco freindly to stop the climate change hmm, what about the cocaine? make it personal, believe to be right if it ain’t messy, it’s not worth the fight o hell sent straight from school, every afternoon monday to friday, the weekends too you and your friends went to the bowling alley by the penny arcade, annoying everybody shoot for the moon, aim for the stars rocket to no1 on all country charts to say you aged with grace would be an understatement our feelings are as ever ambivalent o hell sent in a good place ms loudmouth, master dick the self doubt, the manic the ego, the conflict the memento turned into shit the vain, the elusive the insane, the exclusive the up, the down the fucking around o hell sent in a good place xxx

joey’s out of a job again she said: “i’m not looking for trouble, it’s quite the opposite. but it haunts me, taunts me, it really wants me, ‘til there’s no way out of it.” ch: joey's out of a job again the same way it’s always been another boss clown but joey’s not the one who’ll be jerked around joey’s out of a job again “I know most bosses are morons,” she said “making up for lack of self esteem. low iqs, setting rules, it’s a catch 22, and then they come across me.” ch:

everybody’s neurotic nowadays fear of flying, the underlying scared to live, dreading dying ends horrifying so is trying stupid, stupider, stupefying beg us to stay, shout go away tell us to come, but not today swing astray among the grey fixed angst replay everybody’s neurotic nowadays poor son, so lonesome no ones calling, you call no one need a ton confirmation not to fade into oblivion buckets of pain, endless complaints a thousand reasons to not do it again a dark plain, love drain reach suicide, going sane everybody’s neurotic nowadays

dear horace, like st john you fled, to live in a cave. oh so alone, with your new love, writing letters to the world to let it be known that your master was falsely accused, wrongly convicted and publicly executed. and you feel like judas, in doubt, and barabass, for being let off the hook. now you think it should have been you walking down golgatha, bleeding, in pain, to spend your last hours nailed up in the hot sun. but they let you go, why, you don’t know, they gave you a cross anyway, for you to carry to your grave. now what can be learnt from the life of st john? that success changes over time. and bitterness will wear a man down. remember the words of ts eliot, "petty will show a man’s true nature." dear horace, you may mean what you write, hell, it could even be called truth, but that’s got nothing to do with anything. and you obviously know that too. every little vengeful twist in the plot, at the end of each verse. so then it’s only whining. you wanna stand tall with your firm opinions, preeminence, in all that matters to you and the western world you belong to, and your pompous words who made you such a distinguished gentleman, in the light of your situation now when you make a reservation in one of the finer restaurants in town, calling yourself persona non grata, turned out to be only farts, interesting, but still an improper smell. dear horace, i must admit I think that you’re on to something. the world is rotting. but the women folks are not to blame for it. shit, they got every right to be upset living as second class citizens in a world created by men for men. but like doris day said, "it takes two to tango". they strive for equality. fair enough. but most of them just want what the other sex got. they too wanna crusade, plunder and raise hell in bars. they wanna be equal on men’s terms. fuck climate change, multinational corporations global genocide and world corruption. as long as they get their rightful share of the goodies, power, respect, wealth and luxury. or the possibility of getting it. the american dream world tour. the poor are losers, best off drugged up or locked up and enslaved in jail. and with the world rotting the hegemony’s rotting too. race science is on sail again. picked up where it left off some half a century ago and the holocaust. just stood there by the door, said "hello honey, i’m home", walked in as if not a day had passed, and continued working. then there’s the media. fake news, yes, enough about that. 'cos why not? everything’s more and more demeaning, more and more degrading. all of them influencers, net personalities. don’t let us go there. i say we leave it with the fact that shallowness knows no limits. movie remakes, tom hanks, bruce willis doing his die hard character for the forty five hundredth time, abba, rolling stones, ed sheeran. yach. and the philosophy has gone back to it’s roots, the classics, for understanding. they went astray, now they’re found again. the home coming, back street crawlers. not any kind of a van guard. instead dragging themselves along in this grey old world, reluctantly, at best. dear horace, sorry about that. back to you. i know you feel left out. but you’re not. you’re still here. life takes us where we are, it’s not always fair, but that’s one part of the ride. to make us able to enjoy other parts of it, and then we die. 'cos the bottom line is, nobody cares. neither should you. it’s a new world out there. at least it should be. maybe it will be, some day, some where. i guess we’re not seeing eye to eye on this particularly bit, but let’s just disagree. yours fucking truly,