It’s Not What It Looks Like

I have never heard the faintest sound 
    No young people, so hopeful, in their evening best
    Or the old, wise guys all covered for a winter day 
    Putting forward in tidy offerings
    What we win from finishing each other off;
But otherwise, the blood, the bombs and the bullets are too obvious

Have you, by any luck, get a line,
    Of clarion calls for cleanliness
    Of shrilling voices barking for self-righteousness
    All these cries for goodness’ sake in the courtyard
    When in all our own backyards—the shits galore
By mistake we might kill ourselves with sheer hypocrisy?

Listen to the lamentation
    The heartwrenching music around
    Against the beat of the army boots
    Against the gunmen’s tuneless strains
    Again it is no surprising
We live for the guns—see the teeming police, see the dogs on the streets

The taskmasters ruin the alcohol because it is evil
The taskmasters ruin the chemicals as well
The taskmasters control the world
The taskmasters are everywhere
    No wonder in dark corners the booze floods
    Thousands of chemicals stream uninterrupted
    Oh, it’s not what it looks like

A life’s about making plans
    Tho’, it’s not what it looks like
    My life’s the bag of evidences
    It’s not what it looks like
    Smile and inside the tears are erupting
    Resist but it is because we just do yet we have no clue
    Disagree, for we are what we don't agree ourselves.   

You ever heard deception is alright, never never
And deception is in its full glory, ever ever
Nobody loves kickback on the outside
Inside the greedy eyes know not
Nobody loves killing
—Hopeless newspapers agree not; never never
It’s not really what it looks like.