The P.R. machine has got to be fed
If you take your eye off the ball you’re dead.
Hyperbole’s given every facility
To outstrip fading reality.
The World we know, in its end game
‘Cause the one we knew, can’t stay the same;
With changing kaleidescope we see
A departure from nature’s harmony,
A harmony governed by laws
That humans challenge by muddling cause
With effect to throw out the rational,
But since when is one’s views of the National
Likely to contribute to World peace
When there’re always plenty of sheep to fleece?
A system to serve our greed and senses
Continues until we balk at the expenses;
There are lies and truth and what lies between
So keep searching as they feed the P.R. machine.