Anchors Away

An idea dies, in the same slight way, that we lose track of the

Facts. slowly, unseen, slipping silently, through some

Fabricated cracks. and now the freedom of the press, has turned

To freedom to impress. perfect hair, sells product well, like

Suffocating, sickly smells, the make-up smears, like false

Pastels, like glossy, sugarcoated, shells.

Tune in, tune out, goodbye, goodnight. they're buying you with

Fear and lies. turn it off until it's right, that's the news,

That's all, goodnight.

The advertising dollars buy, the right to stifle antonyms, to

Sterilize the truth with fiction, so we can sing their corporate

Hymns. and all of us were cowed and bought it, hardly anybody got

It. while mergers made their spires grow taller what they let you

Know grew smaller. and we were scared, or too bemused, and so we

Still turned on the news.

Are you afraid yet? they want you to be. it will keep you coming

Back. you are a loyal customer. are you afraid yet? you should

Be.