Call the Waves

Apathy

Has an appetite

A taste for blood

for the oversight

The kids have grown

Filling out their forms

Rectify

While the white ones scorn

This is us

a line of fools

Waiting for

Everyone one to eat

A coughing spell

And a lying man

Saying we're alright

When he's feeling ill

If this all ends

with an empty room

and a rusted throne

then we hope we won

but the loss is loss

and the time is gone

and this bittersweet

taste of death will fade

Call the waves.

Call the waves, on them