Oh, Seven

We came to Bali to wash the oil from our hands
Absolve ourselves, resolve ourselves. That soft, consoling sound.
Haunted by Kyoto's ghost
With his corpse not yet in the ground.
With the shamelessness of little boys whose dying mother, in all her selfishness
Can no longer afford their toys.

I see Christmas greetings from the troops
These snowstorms are knocking out power
Warnings of lead paint from China
Walmart open for its twenty-fifth hour.....
Great gift ideas under twenty dollars!
Please won't you sponsor a child?
A new Rambo movie in theatres soon!?!
Lines are open for the first three hundred callers.

I've often thought about shutting it off,
Strapping on my shoes and leaving my home
But I'd rather sit in this warm electric light
And witness the Fall of Rome.

Don't lose your temper in a foreign airport
Or march for democracy in Myanmar
Don't violate digital copyright laws
Or smoke with a child inside your car.
Because it's better to be safe than it is to be free
In two thousand and nineteen-eighty four.
While the anatomy of our apathy has born a psychotic dichotomy:
Peace is only possible if we fight an endless, unwinnable war.

Give me more corrupt politicians
And insurgents with improvised explosive devices
More PlayStation threes
Ex-boxes and Wii's
In the back of Humvees
That we can drive to a friend
And tell him we don't comprehend
These ridiculous gasoline prices.

Let's celebrate mediocrity and dance with the stars!
Watch them check out of rehab or thrown behind bars.
Let's open up Facebook
Or Google 'Sudan'
Let's check out that video on YouTube
Of the beheading in Afghanistan.

Because it's 1933 and they're burning books again
Throw a coin in the well and follow it down
The inmates are running things around here, my friend
And the circus never left town.