The Former Lovers
Dystopian Fiction

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i.

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I’ve got a bone to pick with the body politic

What the f**k is wrong with you?

I got a crystal ball but I don’t need it at all

To see my worst fears coming true

And when they pull us from our houses, drag our bodies through the streets

The television audience suspends their disbelief

I got a bone to pick / I ain’t the man you think

But I gotta throw a brick or two

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ii.

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I got some contraband, here in my broken hand

Something I should’ve burned, nobody knows I kept

I got three television screens, a bottle of kerosene

She struck the match, she reached out with contempt

And when you told me that you loved me I just smiled and looked away

While the television audience gets blitzed on gin and lemonade

And hey, what the f**k is this / You’re gonna die for it

I put in in your pocket while you slept

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iii.

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And the situation escalates, so tell me if this resonates

I’m digging in the backyard and when’s the last time anybody saw my wife

And when this record drops somebody’s gonna call the cops

But I’m exceedingly polite and mild mannered in real life

And life consists of laughing past the daily brush with death

While the television audience holds their collective breath

The situation escalates / They’re burning schools to celebrate

So pick out something pretty for your wife

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iv.

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My thoughts no longer make the sense / The dogs climb the electric fence

A solemn man is knocking at the door to my bedroom

Maybe it’s a warning, there’s dew on the grass in morning

Did you know, she said, there’s a man in the moon

While they’re selecting the interiors for their rocket ship to Mars

We’re out here shooting CEOs and blowing up hotels with s**tty cars

Don’t start applauding / The television audience is out there chanting,

None of this is real, none of this is real