Wearing that question mark

 I'd point at you and accuse you of the same crime
of not believing or worse of being taken for a ride
Because of the make and model not the destination
you shut your lips let a new state bury itself within

I'd point at you and accuse you a million times
Decrying your excuses and demanding a full repentence
For locking your door to truth and inviting in lies
for hot drinks, ownership rights and toilet on your carpet

I'd bellow until the epitomy of myself was seen by you
pop cast cynic persuaded minion of the band clinging
To the flow of these hollow ones riding the side of the cliff
It becomes vertical you plummet cascading into herafter

Corpse in dust mess moon slightly visible in blue sky day
You turn to the thousands of jilted gullible souls
Wearing question marks as uniforms in trendy affairs
Blocking out the conscience or the grins of those aware

you wear that question mark
age slower perhaps
worship ignorance
In a row of loud stiffs