The wicked witch of the western world
and her ugly booted views
casts the webbed spell
on the global entirety of you.
Little men of power, little trees and little me's
shocked into obedience by the few
who are free.
Rocked back into their lullabyes,
the calm, sweet lullabyes...
A graceful tune attuned
to the gracious soon to be removed.
Wondering why the wonderful are full of wonders.
Chasing the clock on the wall,
chasing it all.
The land of oz is all
The mad hatter, the weakened and thin, the fatter
makes no difference in matter, makes
no difference at all through our falls and clings
to what brings
Lest we forget the few who
albeit rue our stance for them
cannot lend a hand to attend them.
And the government takes their cut.
Leaving no survivors.
The government that drives us
and thrills and beguils us
plants a seed and denies us
our water and hope.
To chop away at the scope...
To deny the rope that ties us is the first
and only step that belies us.