Literature
The Mad Man and His Sheep
As hypocrisy runs rampant in the streets below
A mad man with a pipe, just inhales and blows
The poison smog flows, for everyone to inhale
The fog of war thickens, he controls this whole tale
With one hand he orchestrates turmoil and wars
With the other, the market, as he forecloses stores
This puppet master controls all his blind little sheep
And directs them toward cliffs, so vast and so steep
But drive them all down, the mad man will not
He can't lose his fun, at least not the whole lot
So one versus one, they fight to determine
Whether they deserve life, or must die like the vermin
But soldier or salesman, they are all pawns at best