THE DAY OF THE PIG
Let’s talk about the system and all
the bullshit too
Telling a grown ass man to stand
behind another grown ass man
When the same man can’t stand ground
for himself
His inner coat pocket lined with a
brown parcel
Thieves busy stoning another thief
Judas offering and tithing in the
cathedral
And yes he’s godsend
“So and so is the man and he will be”
the poll says...
What do you think you telling us Mr.
old wise duck?
You never get out of your expensive
cocoon
To feel this midday blaze
Learned but still drowned in the evil
haze
Are you a prophet or just another mad
man pretending sane?
Do your homework “dad”
Get out of my sphere
Coz its clear in between my visions
and yours there’s a lot to fear
You can’t make me want what you want
I’m no longer the ant under your sole
So stop pretending your good is for
my soul
When the earth I sole on is grabbed
and sold long gone
You not Moses, you feared the burning
bush and never removed your shoes
Yet you wanted to leave that legacy
under your feet
Politics of the father in the era of
the son
Acting as the leader of the pack yet
you feared to attack the sheep
Now you a wild sheep feasting with the
wolves
Drinking the soup
throwing us the dead bones
but remember dead bones make music
too
Coercing us into empty boxes
My two pennies into ballot boxes every
time you desire a course
stuffed into your puffed pockets
bee busy on nothing in your docket
trying to make my future bright
when
you switch off my lights
forcing me to reward you with tokens
leading me to a holy abattoir
using the constitution to hide the
blood stains on your repertoire
this is the justice
when the bench men are your henchmen
F** the N.W.O,
F** the clogged pipes you make us drink and
bath from
lies and illusions are the bedrock of
the scriptures that few chosen that you mingle with read from
stale the anointing oil
death ultimatums
bullets got people in cells where
they can’t tell
how are the people the power when
their leaders are the cowards
where do fools run to when in front
of the devils gun barrel?
speaking of liberation
cuffed by realities and situations
it’s all money and power
everyone wipes their mouth after a
meal
for mama said it’s good table manners
I guess we have to wash our hands every now for health
purposes
They blind you shaking hands
When behind doors they exchange
clasped hands
Oh god liberate my soul from the
coward souls
That sway to the lowest Beaufort’s
scale
Shooting me with their ideological
scatterguns
My future frying in a pan
Can’t even brag of the soil to be a
son
Selling me gas and rays of the sun
Stop kissing the nun
And I’ll not blow the pun
I’m not your fan
I’m a player
Your tackle against mine
Manipulated referees
Lights, camera, action
Even when there’s no power on
I’m fed up with the sewer tubes emptying
into the media
Beware am not your card reader
Am talking to you Mr. infamous leader
Praising the jackals when my neighbor
is ostracized
Nose under the barrel
Handing me a barium meal
Am doomed to see the flowers bloom
Wondering if I’ll ever paint a
beautiful picture on gods’ canvas
before I inhale the black powder
As the screams of life get louder
Times we all too dead to discover we
alive
And feel the reverberations of a
hunger dying nation
Where only for the poor it’s rationed
with insidious rationale
Every day is the pigs day
fry the fat one for the rice stew
for every skinny kid with a dream .
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