We laugh at the puppet consensus reality
As the slaves do the gladiatorial entertainments
In the arenas and on TV.
In 3D, they stay at the surface.
Third eyes are merely tattoos.
They laugh at vril eyes and prisons on the moon
As the wacky entertainments of their friends.
There's so much laughter between them,
In an echo, a kind of limbo.
Only a few words touch on the shore:
"Conspiracy" ... "the sleeping."
