Magnetron

Here's To The Lies

Get down
How low will you go
To stay the execution
Delay the parade from Death Row
To where with the brine soaked skull
When in the moment pivotal
Society cleaves and cooks the meat
From the breastbone of your soul
Will you appeal, insist it wasn't real
By pleading insanity or in an act of vanity
Sign a perverse and cursed Faustian deal
In a pathetic sloughing of whatever ethics
Miserably clinging with lichened fingers
To the rigored conscience that still lingers
And fills your ears with dull ringing

Before your last rites are read
The shroud is pulled over your head
What will you have to say for yourself
That you haven't already said

Before your eyes bulge out of their sockets
And warm urine streams into your pockets
What will you have to say for yourself
That you haven't already said

Will there be honesty?

Will there be regret?

Or more of the same truncated
Obfuscated truth
We haven't heard yet

Sit down
Trial run before the big show
Visualize the racked and tortured faces
The people you've come to know
To whom you don't owe an explanation
For what you continue swearing you never comitted
As the guards with care, measure and tailor
The high voltage suit to be fitted

And the Warden tips his head back
Downs a flask of gin
Saying as he wipes his chin,
Here's to the lies

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