A town called impunity

 

The mystery of hell wells up in his eyes
as he watches the keen obedience of the town
hearts hunger justice unfit unsound
illiterate tongues thirst accusation
decades of grief gallows of pain

built by the governor
To measure the multitudes' sorrow
He walks down central street
waistcoat like a bulletproof vest
cling to the cumshaw it'll be best

every bully on the payroll
triggerfingers dive dolphin terse
five percent on coffin wood embursed
another seven from the coroner himself
cling to the status cling to your health

The dead steepen the margin
No clemency, quarter, or pardon

About your day he exclaims cooly
the prison is empty but the graveyard full
echo the traditions of this founding city
The lives of your neighbors hardly matter
cling to the cumshaw, cling to the status

cling to the institution inside the bounds of corruption
listen to the preacher talking of an aspiring world
Crimes of the governor astoundingly unfold
go about your day he says cooly hint of derision
cling to the short bribe to the social position

Out here looking in at you
an infant in the cradle fair
a golden ager in the rocking chair
The same empty charm in your cry
as the governor makes something you love die

Cling to the cumshaw, cling to the status 
for the dead are worthless
serve your purpose walk his crooked line
until your time comes to feed the hellish that dine

Walk out of the store moral suppression
go about your day in shame and discretion