In a nation of full metal jackets,
we’ve lost ourselves in an odyssey.
Guided by artificial intelligence
and held together like clockwork.
We believe we’re in the shining
of a bright light and it’s keeping our eyes
Fooled by a man who believes himself a savior.
He stands and claims to be Spartacus,
but everyone just sees red rum on his forehead.
He may seem as innocent as Lolita
but we can’t ignore this terrible situation.
Like a killer’s kiss,
we slowly die as you appear kind.
Thank god you’re not with us Stanley.
Because you would only die again.
Who would’ve thought after your lifetime
we would elect Dr. Strangelove.