Biztopia
Mister Grumblecock was a traveling salesman
A dinosaur in this virtual age of click and buy
But he is an element in the overall Master Plan
A first hand witness who can effectively lie
All the while keeping a smile upon his face
Mister Grumblecock is a man of luxury
Who will not settle for the common whore
While drowning himself with martinis into obscurity
His sole desire is more, more and of course more
Like a false gospel with promises void of grace
Biztopian experts desire an asphalt domain
A world where digits on a computer are supreme
“It is good for business” no reason to explain
Efficiency and compliance the ultimate dream
Who cares if Mother Earth has a desecrated face?
Mister Grumblecock is experienced in the deal
Weapons, narcotics, sex slaves, it’s all the same
At the end of the day nothing is truly real
Everybody is a piece in a gigantic chess game
What is wrong with keeping the poor in their place?
Mister Grumblecock sits riding in a jet plane
Lusting after the stewardess desiring a tryst
He is a fine businessman, what more to explain?
Still in his mind a lingering doubt does persist
Exactly why is he running so hard in this race?
Mister Grumblecock died of a heart attack
Not a single person cared enough to mourn
In this world of life we can never go back
It’s a one way street from the day we’re born
Mister Grumblecock always the Jack never the ace
POLISHED FRAGMENTS
