The Red Carpet is Bloodstained

The air is filled

With static attractions

Remote connections

To the white-washed damned

Sitting at home

Watching a generation

Put its best foot forward

Just to shoot it off

The votes have come in

No one can deny

The crippling numbers

Who would so waste their lives

A pretty face

A gorgeous smile

Hide the reflections

Of a Hell-destined soul

---

But why should we care?

What they do in this life?

They’re humans too are they not?

But precisely the problem is this

That none can avoid

Pedestals raised

In a land

Filled with holly

And they’ve seated themselves

With a throne and a scepter

Roll out the carpet!

Come, let them pass!

They are our kings!

They are our queens!

But let’s face it

They are our Gods

---

But the red carpet

Is stained with fresh blood

As it leads to their thrones

The thrones of skulls

And their scepter,

A blade

To cut out the tongue

Of any who dare say

That they are not what they say

The screen before me

Broadcasts their lives

As they invade my very consciousness

They call it entertainment

Seems more to me that they are masons

The stone builders laying the bricks

Of the stairway to Hell

---

But I will not fall

For this same christened lie

You will not be my idols!

So stand, come against me

With your legions of fans

I’m armed with knowledge

And truth in my hands

I will never believe

In your sea of lies

---

The red carpet

Is stained with the blood

Of all who would stand and say

“No more.”

But more than just that

It’s stained with the blood

Of ten million people

With eyes stapled shut

But the real question

That consumes me

How can you bow down

To what you cannot see?