Featherless Biped

Your Honor, I ask no mercy and I plead for no immunity I realize that finally the right must prevail I never so clearly comprehended as now the great struggle between the powers of greed and exploitation on the one hand and upon the other the rising hosts of industrial freedom and social justice I told Alexander to stand out of my sun Just a little typhoid can cancel out what you've done Canned laughter, no funny shit, listen up I get everything I need from rummaging in the dump Man is not a featherless biped I sidestep your priorly made assumptions, get a new mindset Playdough, Plato said an empty vessel makes the loudest sound Now let it digest The unexamined life is not worth living Curse lifted, I saw God in the burning thicket Walked outside and I heard the crickets I don't mean to get persnickety but it's a difference We're just some plucked chickens living on a factory farm It seems that ninety-five percent of us are glad to be starved Licking the boot of capital, the fallacy's apparent F*ck formalities, in casualties we tally the merits Let the light shine through your prism Get a new look, find what's entirely different Do a minor incision Peel back the layers and decry the derision At a Mayan commune, eating guinep with the children Kaczynski shack because I'm sick of the shilling Blocking all proponents of imperialism I had a serious vision and now I'm hearing it different I killed the cat like curiosity Nine times in fact, that's mighty ferocity This is not the time for an apology I am simply citing my right to an apostrophe Monopoly man, raise your hands Keep them where I can see them while I pay your hands Because he is not your savior, man If the world hinges on a gamble then I'll take a chance When the mariner, sailing over tropic seas, looks for relief from his weary watch, he turns his eyes toward the southern cross, burning luridly above the tempest-vexed ocean As the midnight approaches, the southern cross begins to bend, the whirling worlds change their places, and with starry finger-points the Almighty marks the passage of time upon the dial of the universe, and though no bell may beat the glad tidings, the lookout knows that the midnight is passing and that relief and rest are close at hand Let the people everywhere take heart of hope, for the cross is bending, the midnight is passing, and joy cometh with the morning