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This is Not How it is Supposed to Be

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The Playwrights were crying and the fields were ablaze,

When the fatherly captain ordered the phase

Young men died to fuel the addiction,

Of the crude, flammable, unstoppable friction,



The scientists thought, and the politicians whined,

As the field’s fires climbed higher and higher,

As the chaos fell into place upon the human race



The stockbrokers yelled as the graph fell down,

And riots broke out in the streets,

The man has robbed us of our power!

They shouted “Bring down the misers! Make them cower!”

They did it before, we can do it again!

Who says we have to listen to them!



“No!” They screamed, “Yes” they Yelled!

This is not how it’s supposed to be.

This is not what they planned.



As the world imploded, and the fires raged,

A black helicopter begins it’s stage.

Loading people on again,

Flying to an unknown coast, with the result,

All the same.





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