Why I do what I do

Five score
and 17 years ago
in the land of Vienna
my father's slow motion
assassination was born
decades later
my family is torn asunder
because some rich motherfucker
wanted to make money for tobacco corporations
so no longer wonder why
I bury myself in info
like a man digging his own grave with impatience
through my gray matter processing the gray matters
while my heart shattered
like his gray dust that I scattered
after he came home in a box left on my doorstep
this is why I'm an artist
martial or otherwise
the day that he died
began the battlecry
I can no longer stand idly by
silent on the sidelines
hoping it will all be all right
it will be all right because I'll put my back
my front and my face into it
I love both the rock and the hard place
If you are beautiful, stay the hell away
All I know is how to crush, rend
and of course, immolate
rage and destruction of illusion is my canvas
I use my mind to gather paint to cover my hands
shades of victim red and cocaine white
delivered to fund the fight
we get it
free of charge
COINTELPRO was living large
until they were reabsorbed into the government
crack covered poor people
tax money well spent
my family
now caught in the net
my blood is eroded
his soul is exploding
a sort of suffering
I will never know
So, let me attest
I am not a man obsessed
I just
see this everywhere and I'm so damn distressed
I just
want to staunch the flow in some significant gesture
I just
want someone to understand
the kids dying of genocide in the sand
are victims of the same men that took my father from me
and millions of others, unquestionably
some overt, some covert
some we'll never know
injustice anywhere
is injustice everywhere
so let the truth be known
I can't feel at home
because I feel alone in the belly of the machine
sharpening my blades
thinking of Edward Bernays
until they come for me
at four in the morning
tripping over wires
I'll have no warning
hence my preoccupation
it's in the back of my mind
at all times
how many of my loved ones are on the line
without even knowing it?
how many innocents have to die before people stop showing it?
my research isn't hobby
it's what I put my heart into
it would be damn cool
if I could stop just one family from being screwed
but I need some more fucking allies
the psychic war is being waged in the theater of the mind
no one is off limits
to marketing gimmicks
the reason your kids want these things
is because psychologists
are all the way in it
public relation firms
the newest in fashion terms
entertainment gains
until we are all the same
homogenized citizens
numb and insane
apathetic to our connections to one another
no more sisters and brothers
just obedient workers
heads down, nap time
blindfold the elders
it's raining cats and dogma
the pundits and the pretty faces ignore the slaughter
all the while I take my sweet time hammering my armor
but people can be angels
depending on the angles
so I hope you think
resist
refuse to enlist
save the raised fists
and use your hands to create something with
speak for the dead
and decline to consent
the sun will rise when it does
but we must hold down the fort
hold up the signs
and while shock and awe lights up our night
with pillars of imminent flame
inform the masses until there is no one left to blame.