The Red Pill Cure For Nightmares
I had a dream the other night that filled my soul with glory—t’was such a dream that I can’t help but tell you folks the story.
I dreampt I lived in Crazy Land, where workin’ folks are donkeys, who dig and sweat to beat the band to feed a lot of monkeys.
They starve and freeze and have no fun, their youngsters have no pleasure, while all the monks live lives of ease, like gentle-monks of leisure.
And I was feelin’ awful glum—I dreampt I was a donkey, and life in Crazy Land is bum, unless you are a monkey—and I was wonderin’ what to do, and almost felt like croakin’, when a troop of lions came along a laughin’ and a jokin’.
“Come on!” they yelled, “come join the bunch, we’re goin’ to live in clover—we, too, were donkeys all our lives, but now the spell is over—we’ve found a little, round RED pill that beats your thoughts of dyin’ and every ass that takes this pill becomes a FREE RED LION!”
I swallowed one of those RED pills—I was no more a donkey-I was a LION who refused to work for any monkey!
Christmas
He was taken out and crucified by rulers and their priests;
His followers were burned at stakes and fed to hungry beasts;
His call to Peace and Brotherhood—all that the sad world needs
Was hidden from the workers in a pile of pagan creeds;
And the race plunged on in darkness, just as it had before,
And for nineteen hundred years has damned the earth with Hate and War.
A world of “Peace” and “Brotherhood,” where masters own the bread?
Christmas? Hell! What joke is this, in a land where Christ is dead?
