You March Hardest In The Idiot Parade
When you hear that booming sound, of the drums and clatter of mindlessness...
When you hear that booming sound, of the drums and clatter of mindlessness you look all around you to see what you can grab, and shake and insult as you create an elegiac orbit of suffering around you.
The gold trumpet of a bigot blurts out loud, and your tail starts to quiver. The expression on your smile goes out like a bird dropping onto a shoulder.
The idiots believe that memorizing facts somehow elevate their cognition. But it's not intelligence, it's only a read without understanding their condition.
The clash of symbols raises your brow! You wish you could've learned to smash the cymbals too. You lift your knees higher a blue flamingo in your march to the parade! You argue out loud in an operetic wail, "yes it's okay to beat my wife". You dance around in blissful feces of your decay. "I'll harass her it's my entitlement and every woman I meet".
You float to the front of the dithering deluge of morons, declaring yourself perfect and a hero in your mind of other men who you deem less than. You swing your arms hard as you wave to your fans, you are doing it! You are marching hard in this idiots parade! You don't get reassessing or the underdog or reevaluating what you think you know. Who needs analysis you know it all everything is truer through your idiot tongue.
A dark velvety cape of your hubris flies around you as you wave your baton. The odor of your corruption is a contemptible stew, it fouls the air your belching green wind. You swing your arms and legs evermore as you finally reach the zenith of stupidity. You are there! You are number one in a universe of zeroes! You march hardest in the idiot parade!
The tubas in the streets and are bellowing in the hole in your head, the sound that goes around makes most people sad instead.
The idiots wave dollars and power chips and alcohol around. But it's not gratitude or gifting it's their empty soul, a dirty thing, a pathetic mound.
So they challenge and threaten and waddle and puke and wave as their sons and daughters watch this jelly roll model creature of the dumb. Look at him go! The bucket head, the numbskull, waving his arms, letting everyone know. We see my idiot! We see you and your box of rocks casting at the vulnerable, targeting the bound, you coward. They're winding the last turn, the parade is in full swing! Their golden instruments dazzling your empty pupils. You just keep on fertelizing your stride and one day you will fall into your soiled pants conscienceless.
You march hardest in the idiot parade. You stumble causing pain to everyone around you. You failed wreck.
Life is better without the parade, the creatures that only destroy and negate. Real smiles come out when they leave the party, flowers blooming at midnight, they rise through the cool air. I won't let the leader of the morons, the king of the guck has no sovereign power here. The good people are laughing at you, you provide a litany of laughter for us from afar. We enjoy life while you drown in your own sanctimony. We have all our hands together and we get platefuls from life.
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