Scorched earth bitten by

the sun and ravaged by man 

yearns for a rebirth 

This circus ain't got 

no bread, fun, nor daring-do,

just clowns and taxes 

Leggo my ego

he cried as the world snatched at 

his ineptitude 

The sound of rain so

soft, murmurs sweetly a tale 

of gentle slumber 

Tangled routes of torn

and twisted roadway before 

us will soon straighten

Narratives controlled

with sleight of hand while cameras 

roll all reek of spew

A slow drip of truth 

can't stand up to a tidal

wave of distortion