969. SOMEONE HAS TOLD ME

SOMEONE HAS TOLD ME

Someone has told me now it's July 4th and I

should be proud of the parade. The old cars and

the battered geezers in the shapely uniforms from

another time and place. But the same. Freedom lies

dying where waters don't run. The old festive moods

make me sick. Just look for yourself and see.

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I'm tired of this bloody gore - the misappropriated

meanings wherein legends are fed to the groveling

mass. Freedom died on these fields when men gave

their lives for nothing. We are enslaved in the grip

of malfeasance. Let's drink a toast to that!

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The grimy old guys in their suits and ties, the

military buffoons from today and tomorrow -

saluting their sickened asses off whenever a flag

passes by. The men who play martial music, their

women who swoon for Liberty's moon. All lies

and incantations - sniveling lingo leading nowhere

at all. At your peril, oh Masters, you rise.

At your peril, you slaves, you fall.