Descender

What the markets say must be intoned regardless of all consequence.
Though they're not quite free, they smile that way,
dressed up in it's symbology.
Despite what it seems, it's all a mental machine.
A projection of the same beliefs that condone,
the life of the world,
To be dissected and sold
for short term profit.

There's no real defense for it's secret self,
It distracts the masses from seeing.
That it's born in blood and holds on thru the myth.
That there is no alternative.

It's fundamental beliefs are flawed cynical antiques,
The direct descendant of an age unmatched in horrors.
Commodifies the world in purely monetary terms,
And dares to call it freedom.

You're so smug as you rationalize how you sold
The environment, human rights, and more.
They're all externalities to be ignored or expoited however you please.

Well not before long, we'll all sing a new song
Our apathy and excess will fall on it's own.
Old ways will be purged as new ideas emerge
And then take over.

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