The fascists and their many guises Anarchists and their fantasizing It seems sometimes they're sailing the same boat Politicians mesmerizing throngs of automated souls As some similar psycho's screwing on the scope
I'm leaving town To join sophisticates in my head We'll have our fun playing the hypocrite critic And when all the creatures in their palaces are crushed I can safely say "I'm coming home"
Fairy tales and fruitless fortunes Acquired from some sad story teller Can sometimes be enough to keep me mum in my keep Organ grinders orating overtures of madness As the heinous hipster's spending his unearned currency
There may be many ways of reaching the same plateau I'll take the road less traveled If it looks like it ain't been sold The chains around my neck won't break But at least they're made of solid
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