B.O.H.I.C.A.

Those things you’ve loved

aren’t gonna break your heart,

they’re gonna tear it from your chest

and tell you it’s a part

of knowing what is best.

 

If you proclaim that God is great,

they’re gonna call it hate

and the color of your skin,

is gonna get you in;

you’re gonna wish you could escape.

 

They say these jokes are getting old,

they say these lines are wearing thin,

but we’ve gone past the point to stop,

I bet you’re gonna call the cops

when the insanity begins.

 

They’re gonna know where you have been.

They’ve been reading your lips.

It’s no longer a kiss,

it’s biting at your wits.

Harvesting your mind

is the way they’ve devised

and they get away with it

every time.

 

Haven’t you noticed,

they’re turning all you love

against you?

All those secret dreams

are nightmares

and paranoia

chewing at the seams.

 

These are new days

of lust and hate;

celebrate the base.

We came out great

made off like thieves.

We took the payoff

and lost our playoff team.

Next season we’re gonna be

contenders for The Cup, my friends.

I can feel it, we’re gonna win.

Bend over, here it comes again.

 

They’ve got us pegged.

They know us better

that we know ourselves.

We gave away

our secret plays

and we can’t blame

anyone else.

 

HG – 2016

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