Never has so much power been placed in the hands of so few!
They've got the time, the money and the mean intent
They've got the knowhow and insight necessary to pose a real threat
They've got the lack of a sense of reality, to keep them safe
And the warped menatlity to use this power in the most subversive of ways
Childlike, the burnt out programmer, the broken and fragmented mind engages then disengages with the target
What should i hit today?
Who is the target?
How should i strike?
Only to then be hit by a sense of futility
A sense of meaninglessnesss
Where is my world they cry
It isn't as it was before
There is only emptiness, only loneliness, only death
This deactivates the relentless, young activist inside
The need to construct the world around them, in their own image
The need to speak out against injustice
For there can be no point to doing anything now
For i have seen the futility of my ways
So i might as well just sit here and think
Think about how to make the biggest impact, before i go?