They whispered words of wicked ways,
On their dirty sticky inky pages,
Stained in the blood of,
Walkless wandering hapless beings,
Knelt to the lies, truth unforeseen,
Tides are rising,
Toughest tested stay afloat,
But what lies upon this wretched boat?
False whispers traveling ill winds,
I pray and wonder when the truth begins?
Brown envelope bastards,
Bent honesty backwards,
On their papers of propaganda,
Made to use you in your anger,
So I sit and ask myself why?
Why the pain and all the cries?
Why dishonesty, why the lies?
They should print good,
But that print don’t sell,
They would rather control,
With the words of….cough cough
Did ya hear the news?