Manuscript Of Yesterday

The prophets of tomorrow,
Are the seers of today,
They bring the news of sorrow,
That happened yesterday,
The read the leafless manuscript,
Of their own doomsday book,
Full of stories of carnage,
Wrote to entertain you.

The world goes round in circles,
As history repeats,
It's never ending cycle,
Of cataclismic feats,
Seems we never learned the lessons,
Of the suffering endured,
As we replay the illusions,
Of the need to go to war.

Our masters are a humble race,
Humbled only to themselves,
They don't endure the deformities,
Subdued by everyone else,
In the perfect little bunkers,
Of their perfect little minds,
They watch as we destroy ourselves,
From the desks they hide behind.

Led by the whore of Babylon,
They build towers in the sky,
Within their world of silicon,
They keep a watchful eye,
Orwell got the dates wrong,
But his prophesy came true,
They'll fine you if you fart soon,
They know everything you do.

On the forward march to freedom,
The freedom of the few,
They control their earthly kingdom,
Based on the lies of Wormwood,
Promised democratic rights,
Are broken by their rules,
Speech is not a composite,
They've handed down to you.

Be seen, but you will not be heard,
Ignorance is your fate,
Disturbance is a dirty word,
That they won't tolerate,
They keep their aliens under wrap,
And feed you snippets of the weirdly,
To lead you down the false path,
Of their own conspiracy theory.

These power hungry socialites,
Who wine and dine themselves,
Build legions of philistines,
To keep the nations hostile,
For war will bring them victory,
Along with wealth and power,
And you can die in good company,
Beneath the bombs they shower.

Don't hesitate to demonstrate,
Your anger at their lies,
The seer has prophesied your fate,
Your time has come to die,
Be strong of heart and soul to fight,
The masters of your slavery,
For the prophesy of their own plight,
Lies in your manuscript of yesterday.