The dream tastes sweet But when shoved into your mouth It rots your teeth With sugar-coated myths of Love unconditional From sinister, manipulative hands That push your face down into the muck Then ask you why your lungs are blocked The dream, it taunts From atop glass ceilings And it haunts Like ghosts wholly American Inexorable spirits of the living Who refuse real death And thrive on your fear When it's they who should be afraid Of you, your anger, the greatest gift You have against machines Fabricating fantasies To stalk you in your sleep And take what they looted From your history So I hope you find the power In your lungs to Scream into their faces And when the void never answers back Don't let it swallow you into the Nothing Because you are art at any volume And you can drown out the white noise Some dreams deserve to burn Some dreams are made to die