Saccharine
Paint It Black
Lowered expectations met. Once were wolves,
now domesticated pets. Hijacked syntax,
footprints on our backs. I guess in retrospect
we should have covered our tracks.
But we see what's underneath, the empty
threat when they bare their teeth. Like priests
we speak a dead language, written in sand. We
need a new lexicon, devils be damned.
Now M.B.A.'s twist the DNA
I guess the kids have had their say.
No Way.
