Crown Transit

I remember the new dark lord
As if it were yesterday
In Rusty's hovel, nursing bowls,
He was the one with the crazy screeds
About the haole and the jews
And the urban reserve army that would
One day soon get the band back together
When blacks became less racist
And whites began to feel less guilt.
We wanted to believe him, really we did,
But we saw he needed the rock and the court to himself.

Now look at him, working for the Mossad and the Federal Reserve,
Pulling the whole world into his fantasy, answering scarcity
With hope, softening the evil with baritone incantations of change
To the mass of souls not tuned inward,
Who look for validation in external shapes.

The old lord walks out proudly as all the eyes look down.
He no longer has to deny anyone anything, he no longer can shock.
No one thinks he's human, but I remember him
Summers in Kennebunkport, never getting a chance on the swing,
Feeling like he'd betrayed the whole world for being alive.
And now only he knows how he's betrayed himself
By trusting those who kept him safe
And gave him the freest of rides.

Tears as the monster becomes, once again, a man.