Pied Piper’s Profane Propaganda

Furniture,

old furniture,

where people were

supposed to be

and sit and make merry

arm chairs

instead of grandpas

empty cribs

abandoned couches

TVs with no one to watch them

there is noise in the house

but no sound

it means nothing any more

to betray

a sense of purpose in the morning

to your chauffeur

your maid

to the final moments

on your pillow

post a good night’s sleep

there are pedestrians outside

but they are standing still

and gazing

at the sun

melting their eyes

now glazed and brittle

all dance

to the tune of the Pied Piper

except the little children

aged five to fifteen

the ones with little to lose

much to discover

but the Piper’s song is strong

he may lure them still.


Rumble on! Rumble on!

try a new song

one that’s come and gone

zombies here, one and all

the age of reason is done

so open your arms

bow down to a new dawn

one that’s come and gone

Rumble on! Rumble on!

try a new song.


So goes

the Piper’s song

on and on and on.

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