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The Scotch-Irish Viking

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Plastic Land

It's really unbelievable. Almost inconceivable, Folks are so unreachable, the egos of today. The air is hardly breathable. Babies, unconceivable. Nothing is achievable, A needle in a stack of hay. So little time and so much to say. I know I make a habit out of rhyming this way. I'm trying to paint a picture, a scenario to portray. Follow the white rabbit, They'll put your head on display. Not enough people see it though. The way we live will take it's toll. Putting price tags on our souls. As freedom slips away. Our food is hardly edible. Everything's forgettable. The ending is inevitable, I say, Come what may! {ÇHØRÛS} Plastic cards, for the plastic man. Plastic oceans, plastic sand. Implant a plastic chip in your hand. Plastic people in Plastic Land. It's really undeniable. The mind's become to pliable. The news is unreliable. Actors in a play. Rockets that aren't flyable. Votes becoming buyable. Strap yourself in, Off we go. Our course has run astray. So much crime, and so little pay. It's become a habit out of living this way. I'm trying to read scripture, but they're taking it away. I wish there was a rapture, I would leave you all today. Not enough people see it through. It's good to bark, but ya gotta bite too. We're more than just primordial glue. We're a cosmic relay. Kinetic energy flows through you. We are a battery, burnin' B.T.U.'s Reaction to the action of everything we do. Make the Megalomania go away. {ÇHØRÛS} Plastic cards, for the plastic man. Plastic oceans, plastic sand. Implant a plastic chip in your hand. Plastic people in Plastic Land. Plastic hearts, plastic fans. I've had all the plastic that I can stand. All this plastic, approved by the government. Plastic people in Plastic Land. Written by: Michael Taylor July 3rd. 2021 ©


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Uploaded a year ago  

July 15th 2021  

Category: Music







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