Terror Birds

Beware the terrorists that always lurk
In every bush and building -- some lame jerk
With penis envy, ideology
Replacing love -- a useful idiot,
A boogeyman who we think we must flee
Because the baby just might have a fit.
A rare and useful idiot who gains
His enemies more power through his pains.

But little do the common people know
That rarest things create the greatest show.

With horse-head beaks that tear the flesh and rip
The smallest prey in two, the blood will drip
Onto the tongue and thrill the taste and baste
The air for every scavenger for miles
To trace back to the bones with little waste,
The blood-streaked bones all cracked in scattered piles --
An ancient land where terror was once rife,
The last of an extincting way of life.

Since little do the common people know
That rarest things create the greatest show.

In this, a time of war and rumored war,
When things seem more like Nineteen Eighty-Four,
When life, it seems, is in a great stagnation
And ideology's a terrorist
And we are losing every strong relation
Once based in love, now crushed under a fist --
And what is crushed is beauty, truth, the good --
You'll see the light if you'll but lift your hood.

Yes, little do the common people know
That rarest things create the greatest show.

We love our lives in Stockholm, with our birds
Who tell us what we want to hear with solemn words,
And we believe their every word of fear
When life is truly better, safer, war
And terror rarer now than ever -- we're
The gullibles who won't peak through the door.
The demagogues are who we have to flee
If mind, then body, ever will be free.