Distracted and Disarmed | Poal: Say what you want.

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"Distracted & Disarmed" completely atomized and unalive the creatures of flesh, decomposing like swarms of flies corpses that move and change with the times on the projector box designed to hypnotize

chained to the wall and turned to be numb tuned out, and drummed out, and burned out, dumb immobilized by poison that contaminates the mind generations of slaves beneath the wheels that will grind

whole nations, to dust, all youth into slaves for vampires whose lusts are infinitely depraved cancel culture, woke, and queers dressed in drag behold new-rome's gladiator games!

What virtue!, how mighty are thou hearts! smearing shit on the walls and calling it art while shadows of men, haunt heroin alleys unseen where they die in their puke, like the flickers of a dream

great throngs of ill-gotten fatherless sons stream out after dark, to numb what is already numb among torches, and squares, that record all our voice lost among the chanting, the signal for the noise

in the night clubs curly haired jews, and asians for sport egg on fathers daughters to strip off their shirts neither party cares not for discretion nor shame we who have descended into the pit again and again

I have gone praying, the darkness to cover me from pole to pole I who no longer fear death nor loss of my immortal soul.

And in that abyss, where lady liberty still stands tall and watches over a nation--prison for all. All the citizens, addicted, hopeless, and vain crawl out the whorehouses, the tiktoks, and games and as the sun finally dawns, on this green new world where they've lain they cry out to god, who they had finally slain.

out of the rotten corpse of the ashes that are the modern faith killers, and mutants, and spiteful slaves with hands beggared forth for all they could grab having never known or owned nothing their architecture was monomaniacal and drab and from their causeways, their chain link fences and schools the vaunted masses looked out as it burned, like fools and into the arms of Armageddon blessed with one final moment of terror the clarity of the collapse, the punishment of their accumulated error.

what they were building, they knew not till its time had come. the prison was a slaughterhouse, for all without a gun and in the great melee the worst allied themselves called it communism, and stole the lives of everyone else.

And so their temple was the grave. And they the offerings To demons and foreign gods. Whose names the masses did not believe.

All the while, among them, whispering, and crying. "it can not happen here."

"Distracted & Disarmed" completely atomized and unalive the creatures of flesh, decomposing like swarms of flies corpses that move and change with the times on the projector box designed to hypnotize chained to the wall and turned to be numb tuned out, and drummed out, and burned out, dumb immobilized by poison that contaminates the mind generations of slaves beneath the wheels that will grind whole nations, to dust, all youth into slaves for vampires whose lusts are infinitely depraved cancel culture, woke, and queers dressed in drag behold new-rome's gladiator games! What virtue!, how mighty are thou hearts! smearing shit on the walls and calling it art while shadows of men, haunt heroin alleys unseen where they die in their puke, like the flickers of a dream great throngs of ill-gotten fatherless sons stream out after dark, to numb what is already numb among torches, and squares, that record all our voice lost among the chanting, the signal for the noise in the night clubs curly haired jews, and asians for sport egg on fathers daughters to strip off their shirts neither party cares not for discretion nor shame we who have descended into the pit again and again I have gone praying, the darkness to cover me from pole to pole I who no longer fear death nor loss of my immortal soul. And in that abyss, where lady liberty still stands tall and watches over a nation--prison for all. All the citizens, addicted, hopeless, and vain crawl out the whorehouses, the tiktoks, and games and as the sun finally dawns, on this green new world where they've lain they cry out to god, who they had finally slain. out of the rotten corpse of the ashes that are the modern faith killers, and mutants, and spiteful slaves with hands beggared forth for all they could grab having never known or owned nothing their architecture was monomaniacal and drab and from their causeways, their chain link fences and schools the vaunted masses looked out as it burned, like fools and into the arms of Armageddon blessed with one final moment of terror the clarity of the collapse, the punishment of their accumulated error. what they were building, they knew not till its time had come. the prison was a slaughterhouse, for all without a gun and in the great melee the worst allied themselves called it communism, and stole the lives of everyone else. And so their temple was the grave. And they the offerings To demons and foreign gods. Whose names the masses did not believe. All the while, among them, whispering, and crying. "it can not happen here."

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