Lapdog

Can you feel the world turn?
Into a comedy of falling shit.
Ruled by a talentless mass,

Of  harlots and hypocrites.

And you're their 'audience',
As they whore for attention.
They don't care what you think,
Unless you pay per circumvention.

You're just a lapdog,
And you fetch what they desire.

Slowly, turn you into,
A commercial satisfier.

With your tragic maturity,
All you can do is make-believe,
But they're just neo-extortionists.
Don't even know that we exist.

Indulging in social masturbation,

Mapping the decay of our generation.

To them, everyones just another view,

Doesn't matter if it's me or you...

. . .

Through a million subway tubes,
And wires, tangled on a graph;

Can you hear the cynical tone,
Of a fading nervous laugh?

Thats intended towards you and,
Every subscription that you make.
And every little thing you do, here on.

Is just one more big mistake.

Cause, you're a lapdog,
And you fetch what they desire.

Lately, you've turned into,

A commercial satisfier.

But you'll beg to differ, now,

Try and make up arguments, somehow.

As you realise, that you've been used.

Fooled, manhandled, played, abused.

But in the end, the truth doesn't change,

No matter how much you rearrange.

And there is nothing left to say,
'Cept every Lapdog, has his day.
. . .