Go Ask Alice

Tumbledown rabbit holes in rabid homes
where madmen swear to tell the whole lie
and nothing but. Spilled guts
in a world where we forgot to care. Not that no one wanted to recover the lost son,
it's no one noticed his falling from grace.
But we'll still sing the song,
and oh how sweet the sound.
Just don't look down.
You're falling too.
Falling for fables where heroes are flawless,
solutions infallible, and the shards left behind...
Well, let others face the fallout.
We have playgrounds and dreams and
a million little fantasies to build.
Facades are easier to face than real dirt,
sandcastle plays disguising real hurt
until waves wash in and then,
like Jericho's walls they all come tumbling down.
Society's suicide note on Twitter and texts.
Google the subtext and only acceptable faces appear.
And we haven't even gotten to the nightly feeds
from The Ministry of Mindwash.
You call it news.
I call it Stockholm Syndrome.
Abuse the dome long enough,
the public begs to be used.
Just give us our toys.
And ignore those wounded ones we left in our wake.
Their fault for being broken.
Brother, keep on talking and look away.
Those lashes look a lot like yours.
The kind of scars imposed
where white rabbits preach acceptable lies
and designer pills make you smaller.
We thought we were building a wonderland.