Baffled by the expression of a hundred humans who deafened themselves
Who drugged themselves to overdose, who drank themselves into comas
There they sit on the bus, their heads empty of dopamine
Their nerve endings burnt
Some drooling keenly, others frowning it out
Some mumbling just loud enough to hear their insane slurs
Others still tingling from the weekend
The community space where they scream scripture and indignation
Doesn't hit the frontal lobe hard enough to change their habits
fills them with pride and false notions of grandeur
cattle in a cattle cart just south of happy go lucky
Their mouths are for swigs and drags and teats for sucking
Their brains are for entertainment and gossip
A million tools await their use
And if you are no better than that quase buda
If you think having a soul makes us all equal
Look at the loss and damage if you will
What? Did they forget to send you the bill?
It's on the streets and in the tax and water you drink
Perhaps self improvement is not your thing
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