Symptoms of Chaos

And the long lost love of despair

Three letters

From a blind dead prophit.

Three letters

Twice unread.

 

Problems ensue
From people like you

Three letters

Twice unread.

 

Hear us all cry

For the faith unheard

Redemption

Casualty

Cause.

 

Never would we blame

Never would we change

Or speak of our ill-rotten Effects.

 

Gods to the praise.

Teach us the ways

Lies from the rich Father's tongue.

 

Politicans would scream

Religion's to blame

Those faithless zealots of rot.

 

Zealots in turn

Would watch the government burn

To spare them the thought of a loss.

 

Blame the rich Father.

So easy to say.

Blame the religion

So easy to play

 

But Socialism hides

In every poor man's eyes

And breeds in their fear.

 

Economic despair

We turn like we care.

To the socialist solution at hand.

 

We lean on that faith

As we hand over fate

 

Three letters from a blind dead prophit

Meant for humanity's son.

 

The letters from a blind dead prohit.

Who saw our future undone.

 

Politicians love the loyal

So does their faith.

Swear alllegiance to one.

Bow to them all.

 

Politics is just religion's square one.

 

Three letters from a blind dead prophit.

Written in what's left of God's blood.

 

Three letters from a blind dead prophit.

 

Three letters.

Always unread.

Author's Note

Props to anyone who can analyze what I thinking...or what I mean...