abdication

I can’t stand to see myself in the morning,

While looking at this monkey on my back.

It keeps getting harder to wipe off the dirt

And feel like my skin and bones are clean.

And I don’t even know your name,

But I know you’re not the one to blame – in this abdication, abdication.

I’m sitting here up on top of my throne,

In a palace I can’t call my own.

Safe and sound, with silver spoons in my mouth.

Buried in my little world.

And you can try to walk away,

And try to find your hiding place – in this abdication, abdication.

And in the deluge of the headlines ticking through,

The apathetic or the emblematic few.

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses,

Our time on this Earth will be judged by the rapture, they say.