November, 21st, 2023
That I am a pessimist, my reader has no doubt
That's something one can't live without
A feeling of disgust towards a whole generation
Who sold its soul to big enterprises
And since it wants to avoid surprises
It makes its art and culture all the same
For the sake of money and comfort.
Meaningless music filled with propaganda
Men singing 'bout gold and pieces of cloth
Women singing 'bout their a$$es and — that's rough —
An illusion of empowerment when they're nothing but slaves
To the very same system they've sworn to hate!
There's no way out of it, my reader has no doubt
If you're not suffering from it now...
Wait till tomorrow.
