I pocketed the devil's dice
And looked out upon uneasy streets
Where people ran like rivers
Into the deep dystopian weeds
Slow burned and lit by street lamps
Dreamed up by folks that knew better
All this pretense of culture and decorum
Hiding masks of other people's bones
I could roll my own portents
I'd won that right fair and square
And all it cost me was the same soul
I'd neglected and left unawares
This isn't the end of history
But it may just be the end
Of all good times
And the ability to play pretend
Set us up the bomb
Networking together obscure insecurities
Fears interwoven with thick layers of lies
To make them seem like kin
Bitter pills left breaking teeth
For there was still so much to take
And the world won't pass from memory
In time for them to earn their fate
That's the thing about karma
Slowly it turns
Still lost in the romance of Niagara
The falling pretense of fairness
The hand extended out
As if to greet humanity as equals
But like the elves before us
There are those that are not as they seem
Perhaps I could cast my lot
For I have no pearls to cast
Far too few ghosts to conjure
Just worms awaiting quite the feast
A funeral for all mankind
Abandoned streets left unattended
Rotting under summer's hungry breath
Swept away and utterly condemned
A revolution never televised
Because it never came and went
The midnight hour struck
The thief's dagger held against our neck
Head already thick with smoke
Trauma thickened like the reeds
Reclaiming our once sacred lands
If only we had bent the knee
But that caretaker had met his match
That gravedigger so much to fill
The slow decline and sun-downing
And so many words now poised to kill
Will any stone still mark this place?
To warn of avarice's embrace?
A funeral for all mankind
Or shall I merely roll the dice?
A Funeral For All Mankind
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