Leather-clad boots march along the marsh,

Guns held tightly to their chests,

Uncaring of the climate harsh.

 

Evidence of their service worn as crests,

Uniforms green and brown

To show off to the rude guests.

 

These machines, they power down.

They destroy these freeloaders,

Dressing them in red gowns.

 

Oh, the sweet odor,

The sweaty smell of justice

Brought on by what they owed Her.

 

Evil monsters’ injustice

They committed to our sacred kingdom

How dare they confront us

 

Their wisdom

Is naught

For they bring some

 

Dangerous weapons. They ought to be taught

What it means

To be one of the fishes caught.

 

Oh, machines

who represent Lady Justice’s morals

I beg you, carry out your routines

 

Of bringing down that hammer

To wipe out those who insult us.

Please, those who have been rewarded with laurels,

 

Do not make a fuss

About your duty.

Don’t even try to discuss

 

The truth behind the beauty

Of your job.

This job you are with is a cutie.

 

You do not throb

With pain in your heart

You do not sob

 

For the comrades you had to depart

There is no depravity

After all, this is art.

 

The only gravity

Places upon your shoulders

Is rather, a cavity.

 

I can explain that what you think is a boulder,

Is rather a thirst for proving your loyalty,

I can see that it is a hunger on your shoulders

 

It is not cruelty

You have carried out.

No, it is a service to the royalty.

 

Ignore the shout

Of the man crying for mama

Ignore the doubt that, in your mind, is a sprout

 

That takes root in the drama.

It is only a side-effect.

A test of faith, for the momma

 

You truly serve.

Keep our holy land sacred,

And let us reach Nirvana.

 

Do not let hatred

Sprout within your chest

For your naked body

 

Will shield the best.

You sacrifice will be in vain,

And no protest

 

Shall sway our opinions to your pain.

Just focus on your job,

And let us obtain

 

The lavish life we rob

From you who loves.

You are nothing more than a slob,

 

For much like your pig-like nature, your employer shoves

This false sense of duty into

Your throat like drugs.

 

Overdose on them, to

Become duty-crazed machines.

After all, Uncle Sam needs you.