There is something about society
That really makes me sick
And if you ask me to point it out
I’ll tell you that you can take your pick:
It is the injustice done to the other
The one that doesn’t quite fit in
That one that isn’t popular,
Maybe too thick, or simply too thin.
It is the look of raw disgust
To the ones that are not the same
As all the others that are in
This rat-race end game.
It is the superior attitude
Of the ones with pockets more heavy
Than those that work an honest day
And drive a rusted out-dated Chevy.
It is the one who thinks
That to prove he is so strong
Beats on his wife without once
Thinking that he could be wrong.
It is the governments that waste
The youth of this world in battle
Treating them as if they were no better
Than fodder, the sacrificial cattle.
It is the looks that I get
When I tell the world these things
And know that there are some
Who hear the truth as it rings.
It is the ones that hear this truth
And are beat down and kept back
By the few that somehow control
The direction of every attack.
It is the feelings that I get
When I walk out and all I meet
Is the apathy we bask in
On every corner, every street.
It is the fact I can keep going
And not run out of things to say
And that you nod in agreement
But we both continue to look the other way.