The Road

Black ground, grey shoes

Look up, look at them look at you,

Winding road, full of machines,

Programmed for servitude;

 

Black ground, grey shoes,

Look up, look at them stare into you,

Do they know, or are they just curious,

About my long hair and that beard;

 

Black ground, grey shoes,

They think they know, but all they do is look,

For I am not as curious,

As the deed I’m about to do;

 

Black ground, grey shoes,

I take out the tool,

Look up, its time to end your servitude,

Its time to free you;

 

Red ground, red shoes,

The deed is done, no more looks,

Keep walking down the road,

Avoiding the bodies as I go.

 

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