The Tyrant

If you could see the tyrant sleep
Dreams with one eye open
A candle casts a shadow
On a his wall, a wounded light
White tooth smile for the subjects to see [greets]
Little kiss [for the] speechless children
But the tyrant must remind sometimes
How he came to be called the tyrant

Once he was a bashful boy
Bouncing on his mama’s knee
He dangled from a milky breast
Just the same as you or me
Then he got wild ideas
Which would not let him be
And he said, “An idea is like a prisoner
Until you break it free”

Behold, the tyrant
Watching over you and me
The poor old tyrant
Can’t get no sleep

“[Fields] to be [ ] work”, he said
“The roads [yours] to never [ ]
All the fruits shall be divided
Among all who participate
I will not [ ] my tongue to list
All the things I will not tolerate
And if anyone else has a wild idea
Who can expect me to pay for it?”

He may show you his parlor of old [ ]
Or you may be strapped to a table
Under a flood lamp in a soundproof basement room
Like an [exalted] butterfly
Pinned to Styrofoam
All you would-be assassins
With your dreams scribbled on café napkins
All you perfect assassins, you’re far to [ ]
Never be allowed to be [in] his [home]

Yes, I kidnapped your daughters
Now the flowers of the desert
And I castrated that mouthy boy of yours
And I disemboweled his father
But I spared your ailing mother
I took pity on her blindness
So if you speak of me to your neighbors
Let’s not forget this kindness

Behold, the tyrant
Watching over you and me
The poor old tyrant
Can’t get no sleep
Can’t get no sleep