Beauty For Bosses - Ceschi

Today I learned

That I wasn’t built for the game

That I’d rather play floor gigs for 40 kids

Than any fucking festival stage

I’m a martyr at most

I’m a failure at least

In the eyes of history I’ll be no more than a leaf on a tree

3000 years of work surrounding me

By forgotten anonymous artists

Beauty for bosses

Before fame was even a concept

Some of them were stoned to death

For the way that they expressed

Today we’re only stoned by debt and dope

And twitter feeds of jokes

Hand me that Obama phone

Text me love notes

Lay my head to rest on a museum bench

And hope that they properly mummify me one day

So generations can learn from my broken bones

Dug from under man made mountains of ATMs and motherboards

I am alone

Self aware

Fat

Getting old

Capitalism is violence

They say it’s all we know

I read about a time before prisons existed

Heard of an era before banks

Before civilians were born victims

Dreamt of a place with no cops

Where skin color was insignificant

Where you could love whoever you wanted

Because it’s nobody’s business

Fuck a world

Where justice is impossible

Where governments call cynics hostile

And equality is a Utopian concept

Fuck a world

That forces me to suckle its teat

Pay to breath

And charges legal fees for a chance to be free

If this is free

Somebody please beat the life out of me

(Just kidding… but seriously)

I will die an artist, an artifact, a bad joke

From a naive time when human beings still had hope

This will sound better when I’m dead (x3)

Everything sounds better when you’re dead