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by Tumi and the Volume

Take two in the morning
Move to the door

Say whose your opponent
Vultures in suits in a rover
Troops and soldiers
Swoop on your culture
No sir!
My boots on the shoulders
Of those the movement has moulded
Notice, do what you suppose to
And bring the truth that much closer
But you bamboozled and broken
Hoping the poo colour is golden
No sir!
You too proud to know it
But only fools fight the moment
The soul finds food out of probing
Searching, floating earth in motion
Controlled by who what and no one
You can't control the world!
No Bush, no Britney Spears
No Coca Cola everywhere
No coup, no silly fears
Of Ebola in the ear
God control it
Stop the nonsense
Use it, don

Contributed by Josiah Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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