The most lyrically convincing
declaration; one that wouldn’t be dismissed,
so that I spent hours at work
doing lines, like some insane typing test:
Survival in a twisted world
where NOTHING is sacred.
Thank you, Fear Factory.
I stole and nurtured
until it felt like my own
profound invention,
drumming in my mind
with the sincerity and violence
of a tribal war cry.
For nothing is sacred,
despite the pedestals we build -
directed by media managers,
the persistent influence they wield.
We raise them up
to knock them down.
Idolising, a dangerous past time,
for figures closely examined
are unveiled as mocking shadows;
dancing and beckoning
to the naïve and desperate.
En masse, nobody has any respect
for the things you hold dear
it’s either that they don’t know
or they just don’t care;
their mindless flaunting
drives mortals to tears.
I trust the time will come when
the lessons taught
through mature experience
will take hold:
forget and abandon
all icons and heroes.