A while back the coffecup crowd TV wide screamed bloody murder go to war for Syrian dead children stacked neatly in a
schoolroom all non bloody-head tidy dead. Yet nothing from THIS.
What's that Cindy Loo Who? You didn't see it on the News? Didn't happen then!
You see, it's not I want to see rain on parades. Have yourself a merry one, really! It's not to steal any so-called good cheer either. What wealth would I acquire there? No. And YES, we must we think the deep while you're faking through the
YOUR HEART MUST HAVE A SWITCH.
Mine just goes and goes. I am bursting forth in every artery, why aren't you? You KNOW it's there but you choose not to focus on it and I get it; we all need some happy space. Does it have to be now? Yes!!! Or it will never ever stop.
You are the problem.
You who do not dwell.
This kinda shit needs to be done
as IT HITS THE CLOCK,
MAKES CANCER OF
OUR MOTHER EARTH ARK.
So as far off churchbells ring, if ANYONE out there tonight feels all USO Santa-hat and sings Christmas carols in a bar, raises a beer dedicated to our trooops overseas, feels all center of the Warhol room and belts out an automatis Psalm, they best remember one tiny thing.
The eye of the needle and the huge camel they need to get through.
Because when they're clinking rims and drinking pretty to our boys with idle guns and saggin hammocks, remember too WE'RE BOMBING CIVILLIANS TO DEATH in harsh winter, and just not calling it war.
If you can do that, then why not call it Christmas? Merry Christmas everyone! To grandma's flying severed arm and sweet niece Alice babyhead abash the bricks!