Lyrics:

A coincidence in the foyer,
Whilst admiring a Goya,
That sagging face passed by,
A visage summoning brass,
Of the generous septet,
Blaring away for decades,
Through jammed in mutes,
Scoring the longest of sunsets.

In another life,
I confronted him, said:
“It’s a simplified world,
When it comes to everything
But easy decisions.
An industry of tragedy,
Retrenches majesty.
Easily avoidable,
In plain sight,
For those furthest from might.”

Sadly, I relented, I knew
He wouldn’t have repented,
Raised on a lack,
Hardly a hunch to his back;

Too long ago the horror
Of horrors came and went,
The old binary was spent,
The guilty realised they
Had always been a majority,
And thus became an authority.

Rather, I left the destroyer,
Never forgetting them in the oral oubliette,
And went to reconnoitre
The alleged opposition
And rounded the Mobius.

So many felt impervious,
Upright when only in sight,
In words, aware and alert,
Outside, offering insight,
In truth, they just parroted
What happened to be right,

A dearth of pulses behind
The echoes they carried,
Didn’t hesitate
When dropping articles in digital print,
Their pundits unwilling to swab
Identical acid rain atop Runnymede’s sod,
Pliable, porous only to a point,
Who will they soon anoint?

Uneven master,
There’s only one thing,
You make faster,
Always capable of laughter,
Sleeping above Jakarta.