back in the day
we had idiot sanctuaries
moored offshore
on the emerald ocean
where fat cats
would call the shots
for the man
who called the shots
before the last nations fell
the top banana
sat on a gilded throne
while continental flunkies
manned his 24 hour hotline
he had a legal mandate
to commit the perfect crime
no-one ever saw him coming
but everybody knew
from his bloody footprints
exactly where he had been
he was the master of ceremonies
for the great false dawn
they say that it shone brighter
than a thousand suns
.
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