Bones.

[rewiiired]

Right your wrongs
sing your songs under your breath
we all need our little mantras
until concentration is broken by
the loud, unprecedented curse amidst our lullaby

so what to do when
the train of thought has become
irreversibly derailed?

yes I've
cocked the gun
run along now

run along
just walk away

daddy will take care of this
daddy's got some bones to pick,
some blood to shed
and this is no place for those
wed to the illusion of innocence

just blind your eyes to the night
to all the creepy-crawlies
to the horror and the mayhem
your analytical mind cannot tolerate

daddy's got a date with our devils
got a sharp tongue, fire in his eyes,
a cracking dam in his chest
an arsenal in his mind

daddy's got a can of whoop-ass
for the starseed planters
and mind-reapers

the moon and stars cast enough light to see
incantations pave the road
and with will as his fuel
daddy here will destroy and rebuild

for there is no fate but what we make
so self but what we create
cooperation pools powers to reset the balance
but in times like these a man must
become a culture unto himself

daddy's not just fighting here for himself.