All my heroes are long gone
The voices of our liberation
Forever silenced
No more pretty chances

They're all dead, and I sit with my
Head in my hands
It was too soon for those cadets
To die

"Who'll carry it on"
Frail arms reach only into dust
When everything seems plastic and rehearsed
Rather die than shove on this way

Fireproofed the flags
Contaminated the water supply, too
Corporate strangle no longer strikes fear
But has taken the handle of a happy leash

Silicone mimes sing and
Heads bob to stagnant beats
Free razors to cut the stitches
Abandoned for threads and needles

Sliced tongues shriek and wince
Let us call louder like great mages of old
For the dead can rise
Can't they?

Maybe we'll see an end to it all
Perhaps the rapture will come
And take the zealots for a walk
Gold doesn't tarnish like plating