The world is not what it was; we all know this
On swelling populations, sifting west like sands
It turns its fair face from a now fading renaissance
And is dragged back on revived medieval rhetoric
There will be no rapprochement, no new dawn
We feast like carrion on our dwindling resources
We learnt long ago that people will be controlled
So long as all the propaganda flows like cheap wine
They will readily suffer, but they will seek to blame
All those who show them where the truth truly lies
Leaks of my consciousness take flight into the spring
Flow to seed the aether with memories of lost freedoms
They shall remain there, till one day long off in time
When the world is a better place they may return