Signals

I’ve been listening
every time that you spoke
your virtue signals
are nothing but smoke

The nattering of you fertile
mind is in the plotting
you’ll only be benificial
when you’re dead and rotting

projector broadcast fear
with bigoted protrusions
leading a race straight down
with grandiose illutions

assisted tribal suicide
party to the bottom
screaming bumper ignorance
it’s easier to spot ’em

Where there’s smoke there’s fire but you just won’t fucking burn
I got the gas and a match so maybe you’ll fucking learn
I want to hear you scream in the flame and it’s your turn
Your ashes in the dumpster your home you return.