07: The Common Goal

What shall it be, this miracle of ours,
When shaking off the shackles of evil,
Transparency in government a must!
Good food & shelter guaranteed for all
Work-able to universal standards
Spanning various sectors, interests;
Important planetary decisions
By congress’d ecowarriors moulded
Not naughty wee nations obsess’d with gold
Or TNCs thinking they transcend Law,
Or even CEOS, for wealth extreme
Shall simply slam possessors in prison,
When Our Vision mulitiplies by fibres
We will have long eliminated greed,
We will have copied successful models
From each Earth culture, each society,
& wove them all together with thick thread
Spun by Our Common Goal – we must invest
In think tanks, letting clever plebiscites
Invigorate ideas, unity
Stands on the final nation that we build –
Godsent terrestrial federation
Composed in stable peace to securely
Marshall all Our fabulous resources,
The bounties of Nature tamed by Science,
The benefit of all, without burden,
The summit of our dauphin phantasie.

08: Money Loops

While World sleeps, lanterns of the super-rich
Burn vainly, spiteful pleasure-loving lights,
Gross built by endless labours of the poor,
As each greed-sodden individual
Slaves creates, generates mass miseries,
By 2035 just one percent
Of swarming populations shall possess
Two thirds of all Earth’s astonishing wealth,
Stern minotaurs manipulating minds
Thro’ media-moulding, judges bribing,
Political leaders hegemonizing,
To keep the masses angry at themselves,
Divide & conquer strategists employ
Thro’ every second’s widening wealth gap;
Shame Indonesian Oligarchies!
Shame Petroleum Gods of Desert Wells!
Shame on America’s three richest men
Fondling more finance than HALF their country!
Shame the price of faded Masters’ paintings –
Such cash could fashion twenty hospitals!
Instead, its swept out of circulation
Via trinkets merely canvas & paint
Slapp’d down in pretty patterns; or is used
With stealth to catena society
Via empty wages, fake elections –
Exhausting, dispiriting money loops
Serving Swiss Contessas red velvet cakes!

09: Terra Mater

The next time you pass blossoming peach trees,
Pause, & wonder on the significance
Of beauty, let her be thy deity,
We need to build more altars to her now,
Terra Mater of the di selecti,
Her hair the elementum that is Earth,
Her ringlets cornucopias of fruit,
Canteloupe gorgeousness, this gemmy sphere
Invites the eyes to stray yonder Corners
Of all we know, or rather told to know,
Like… electric cars are too expensive
& other such guff – let us count the ways
To save ourselves; first step, animation,
Next, appreciation of Mother Earth,
To cultivate her leads a pious life,
Sole survivors of the lines of Saturn,
We walk through the forests to her praises
She kisses us calmy when recycling!
Commencing our days with cereal rites
Saves recombining livestock, enslaving hens,
Beyond the enervation let us stand,
As if fire alarms all across the World
Went off in cacophonies together!
Circular economy we can force,
Rewilding ravaged nature we can forge,
Without her we are sterile, infertile,
Existless in a listless dirge of dust.

Song 3: The Seeker of the Rose

THE SEEKER OF THE ROSE

I was born in these islands was born in this land
I switch off my silence as up I do stand
Because Tory & Labour & SNP too
Have fuc£ed up my future, they’re fuc£in yours today
As elitism runs thro the veins of the vile
When the public complains all these thugs do is smile
Say, ‘there’s no time for shirking when working all week’
But that is just serfdom, not worth it,
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the rose

We should recognize signs of a plague to the west
Where the statue of liberty’s baring her breast
& she’s dragging her hair thro’ the streets with a wail
Sighing ‘evil has come here, no please don’t set sail.’
But the hour is upon us, the hour’s not too late
Those pirates who hijack the ships of the state
We should shatter with logic while turning the cheek
The future’s got beauty let’s prove it
Go seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the rose

So rise up ye people, uprise one & all
Lets build up our guilds as the tyrants downfall
& we’ll limit land ownership, wealth of the sheik
No longer in danger as strangers
We’re seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the roses
I’m seeking the rose

10: Fake Democracy

The unkempt acceptance of perception
Commences scripted manipulations,
Moulding democracies to perversion,
Rigging up corporate-frigging systems
From funded think-tanks bias spins on bribes,
Political parties help’d to power,
So back-scratch tax-breaks & havens make slaves
Of those whose personal data, en masse
Bought up, studied, to trigger loyalties
With well-timed headlines, blanket coverage
Of insidious, brain-washing bullshit,
While any sense of proper importance
Ignored, brushed over, given bullish spin,
Especially those Roman triumph thrills
Of election times’ pretended freedom,
For in the eyes of certain secret clubs
We all are cattle, dumb, for the market,
Sold & slaughter’d for ravenous gullets
& when we all go tripping to the booths
To place a cross by someone else’s name,
Signing away our rights to question curs
With the cross’d mark of the illiterate;
& never universal anyway!
Some disenfranchis’d, some dissillusion’d
& some just plain denied the so-call’d vote,
While slavemasters sat at varnish’d tables,
By bolster’d wrong-doings feel constant Gods.

11: Tax Havens

From winter’s waste grows wheatfield in July,
From destitution restitutions rise,
The World grows slowly wholly well aware
Of how its wealth is siphon’d out of sight
Of state-level laws, hidden from hatred;
Manhattan, Luxemburg & Delaware,
Small fries beside financial Albion,
Its perdifious bullseye paved with gold,
Where secret jurisdictions fix transferance,
The booty of mass thievery, loot sent
To tiny territories overseas,
Such maldistribution of resources
Makes honest stomachs sick, aye just as sick
As those forced to quaff wormwater’s filth-dirt,
Fourteen hundred children slain every day,
We cannot give them charity, so-call’d
Aid is merely the black mask of evil,
What truly must be done is cool justice,
When, as the world is turning debts to dust,
People break into vaults of Tax Havens,
Rescuing riches from fixers’ clutches,
Hurling huge hoards into our hungry streets,
Opening business to transparency
Lowering prices to their fairest depth,
Imprisoning any crass accountant
Who fudges books or dares facilitate
Illicit stills of money’s new moonshine.